I don’t know why I was surprised to find you there. To see you newly satisfied in that place. Smiling, shining. Grown fat with your forgetting.
You took my favourite season, after-all. Rearranged the weather. Built your shelter on my foundation, sought safety on my seas. But now at least I know. What I have always suspected to be true:
You have no sacred in you.
(there is no temple of mine you will not defile)
Eidyia. Who sees. Who knows.