Grotwish Order.

Deep in the shadowed labyrinth of my subconscious, where sorrow pattern jagged obsidian pennons, I wish to unmake my spirit and slip from the waking realms. Yet the twilight folk surrounding me thirst for the quiet magic in my veins, the twinned theurgy that once spun illusions of rare and brittle pulchritudo. Only then did I grasp the truth: I linger  the world beckons my existence. Thus I shield and awaken the faint, trembling gleam of gaudium hidden in the hollow soul’s dim chambers.