I don't have much to say as of late, because I don't have much to love. The drive of my inspiration, the force that moved my fingers has all but died out. The moonlight that once showered me in glittering light has faded into darkness and my blood has ran…

Amidst the darkness, there's a flicker of hope. Like the red glint of heat on charred firewood. I may not be as powerful as the wind, but I will breathe. My breath will be enough to bring the fire back. To bring the light back.