In three times, I knocked a fourth. The vision played out thoroughly, a fourth time still for clarity.

I saw it, an endless abyss to which my mind had naught to name. Something I know well now, for it was revealed in time. Encroaching the pass, it belongs to a place from whence one may not return, as this is why it was invisible to mine eyes.

I saw it, after that; I was not to be, in instant, it was revealed to me. Two paths given, only one to take. And when I pursued it, out of curiosity, curiositas fallax. A tongue once mine shaved off, to be bestowed upon man in days of the god come to die. We were to rejoice at the felling of this false man, and Man would revere said nativity gone awry. When I questioned of it, such an answer came not.

I saw it, an imperfection. Was it mine? It was not for me to know, nor can I remember, especially now. My eye faltered to it, and, at once, shattered upon the dais of perfection. Something that I was, I failed to be, yet I was allowed to roam. Had I wandered too far, so as to alarm my kin?

I close my eyes now, there is naught left to see.