Psalv-Muron starts Tonight.

A hundred drops of dew lay upon her body. She lies in the tall golden grass, slowly fading away, slowly escaping this world by sunstroke. Its a slow way to die, but her sweet laughter is enough to keep me here, prisoner by this inescapable depression. Sometimes, I'll ponder whether I'm really depressed, or if I'm just becoming dark wonder. Slipping my heart away, through the deepest folds of the universe, till the walls curve up on me. Till I find a place where nothing could leave, a place no one knows exist.

And she'll hold onto my dead body, waiting for me to say something. Waiting for answers I never knew the answers to anyways. Waiting for me to rise and show her what is good.

Psalv-Muron isn't letting go of my burning soul. The black flames of Amaterasu engulf my pretty face, through the cortex and through my blackened eyes. And though this freezing water rushes against my knees, I cant wash my face. I am scared. King, I am losing myself again. Perhaps finally. What if, this was the end.

I would leap out of this water. But what am I, without you. 

You who would bring these bones back from the abyss, just to let them drop again.

And my angry delusions, spill forth at the mentions of your name. I push and shove myself into this icy sea, and I lie underneath, in these cocaine dreams. I turn prostrate, finding warmth under these burning rocks. The water turns red.

As I sleep the madness sets in. Running mad, from his bright eyes, from the entity whom I must face. Somehow he consumed all the others, holding there fingers, eyes like headlights. From fifty yards away, I hear him whisper "YOU'LL NEVER GET OUT OF THIS"

And my fear has its words set deep into my ribs, etched out on my shins and wrists. And lust has my hands shaking white, and my chest burning red. And its lust and fear keeping me here, for play with the thing with eyes like headlights. Digging his elongated fingers through my intestines, perhaps hes looking for my hate, or maybe just the last of my sanity.

Echos of indistinguishable voices ring through my head. Are they warning me, will I ever know. Dull and numb, I feel their operation. 

Psalv-Muron is terrible. And it keeps me under. The water has picked up, the awful salty seafoam choking me. And my vision is slipping again. Fading into. Black.

Lord. they are destroying your temple. You gonna raise it in three days?

Will I ever see Aslans Land?

Will I ever be free of these murderers?

Will my king ever set me free? Cause it is chaos.