pitted & corroded, this glower-box i'm in. i'm leaking venom like the basilisk! thats me, the little king. feeling for all the world like my heart is some abandoned insane asylum. run through me with pistols drawn, monster-hunters, & for all the world don't look too deepy at the shadows. i guess this depostion would be incomplete without me mentioning that i slept with the bedroom door locked. "it just sounds dumb to say i believe in them." well, or i guess believe is the wrong word. i will not whine about this cup passing from me, i'll tell you as much right now. okay, i've rattled off this sulk. shed this snake's skin. dodged this bullet. i've been misunderstood by those who fear the return of magog, but whatever. i'll stay occuluded by my own mythology.