DISPATCH FROM AMAUROT - MEMORANDUM FOR RECORD:
0851 BELLS - DIE 18 - UMBRAL MOON 5:
SUBJECT:
Regarding: The red on my hands that won’t wash away.
POLICY: Nulla Regula Exstat
Just music bringing about thoughts of places that can’t be visited again or never truly were. Things done that cannot be undone. And the obverse of that the things I ought to have done but did not do.
Is there a God that can forgive all of this, or does that deity dwell in mine own soul and only I can forgive myself my transgressions and failures?
War leaves it’s trail
In moonlight so pale
It’s shadows they flow
In rivers, in rivers
So put on my mask
I’ll go where they ask
So I might once again see
Roses of May
Staining my soul and stinging my eyes
The red on my hands
Won’t wash away, wash away
No where to run from what I have done
I’m no longer, no longer
A Rose of May
