A lightless light surrounds us each night. How can I imagine that something so luminous could feel so dark? It's this glow that reminds us of the dreamless existence we've been sentenced to. But what I call a sentence, others accept as normalcy. How did they so efficiently eradicate the dreams within us? When the bishops instituted Vialism as mandate, they effectively reversed the hope that many arrived with.

Am I the only one who realizes that we've been lied to? Am I only not afraid of the notion that the nine have hijacked our trust, and extinguished the hope that once motivated our existence? We used to close our eyes and picture a better life, now this city is full of dry eyes caught in a trance of obedience, devoid of any trance of an identity.

The only significant light I've seen has been in the eyes of those smeared - such a curious light, to see bright eyes strangled by the darkness of the bishops hands. As their presence fades, so dims their memory of something more.

My hope of something more is all I have in this rigid tomb, and I will not let it die.

Stay with me, my blood