I am. - webmaster@role-play.net

Old and misty bones settled upon my pathetic form, not unlike a predator to its prey, setting my being into frenzied reasoning. I was alive again, the pumping of a hollow heart, gusts sifting through dry gasps of air. What an experience to know the timing of your dying cells, feeling their last screams, moment after moment of their continued failing. In such a way I was blessed perhaps, no gauge to my own self was necessary for I was a road map written boldly for all to see. Well, for those who looked, at least. Coarsing through my gossamer veins, where once there was oxygen enriched blood, now pumped the substance of fairy tales.
    Dare I say what word that plays upon my lips? Prancing gaily, a marionette on strings that I control.
    Can I speak of such insanity?
    Would the old men, tired and weary gawking through cataract eyes not frown, their ears, though failing, still able to hear such a word of power. Giving sustanance to a yearning more deeply buried than some ancient lizards bones they would perk their ears. In a parody of box seat theatre enthusiasts, leaned over the balcony straining for the whispered words of the villain. The attention from such as they would be unparalleled.
    Yet what an arrogance to think this to be of importance to youger men than they. For surely those of my companions would not be dazzled by such elder fantasies. The youth of their hearts even now in my presence, giving way to a heady feel of grace their untempered bodies smooth and strong..