Old Lord X: My creation, is it real? Superstition, there's a feel. Hypersensing details falling all between the lines. Thinking back I wonder if I really don't have time. Soon, I'm co-ming home. A vessel all my own... To attain eternal life... Into the light. I tore off my face, I don't want it back. Do not let me see it. It will fade to black. I'm waiting, still breathing, no longer worth deceiving. This flesh decaying but my heart's still beat-ing.