Not north nor south,
not east nor west,
nor any place I seek,
I have found our darling Iosyne
And wherever I may go,
the wonders creep within my heart and sow,
these distant fears of abandonment within my heart
Asking, all the while,
this torturous question of our darling Iosyne
I spoke of butterflies of now and past,
colouring us with the multitude of the last
Do I stray here in this world alone,
a clinging sense of insanity to a touch of bone
Spreading violently through my midst,
a subtle blow of fear and the missed
Oh, where is our darling Iosyne?

Penned by my hand on the 13th of Slyphian, in the year 134 MA.