The gaze of Holy Monk Drokore is fixed
on unseen scrublands cast inside his mind.
And passing through the medium betwixt?
The sea, The Salt, the passages of time.
To what had he committed with his oath
to make the ‘Holy’ appellation sing?
A life apart from homelands verdant growth -
a spirit tamed with discipline-clipped wings.
Returning now would strike as heresy
For those inclined to track ascetic vows.
But what is solitary majesty
without the peace aloofness ought endow?
Drokore must choose his emerald effort’s heir:
The Great Beyond or to the Brambles fair.
Entered by: 0x6EBd…aB28 and preserved on chain (see transaction)
No further Lore has been recorded...