Van-Stein

My dear Machinamorus tells me of his love. He longs after her in many restless days and suffering through tormentuous nights, nor kind spares me from similar emotions; when he sings her with eyes like seas savage through the winter or with skin as soft as hair washed by the rain or a radiance that sets alight the whole soul with passion can you blame me? But why does what should be the sweet warm kiss of Venus gurgle like Charybdis sucking in such foul gunge?! This monstrosity has an apetite of more than water and more than thrice daily! Run, my friend, for as far as your feet can bear! Your journey may have been rough and painful to bear