An austere and a passionless state of being. The sensation of detachement grows as the reveries subside. The Elysian Fields of yesterday linger in a dreamlike vapor and the glorious Ignis Fatuus remains as a suffocating flame, moribund and withering. I can almost touch the flame, with trembling hands, I can.
And there will be the Third, and the Third will be the end of all.
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