Stand still, my love, that I may blindfold you,
In dark silk, that you may not see through,
Open your mind, my love, that you may brook this anew.

Listen to Their bitterness, my love, but forgive Their benightedness,
Oft do They forget that which does not serve Their sickness,
The Corrupt would overlook the Ilhavon war, whilst we bear witness,
Lift your head high, my love, your honest victory smells and tastes delicious.

The Battle-hungry would shout and cry over days long past,
Let Them reminisce and Dream, but be not harassed,
Smell the flattery through those taunts, and remain steadfast.

My love, take heart,
For we all stand with you, every Spirit and Spark,
I too am with you, and we stand strong, as two pillars of a temple rising in art,
With enough space and purpose, together and apart,
Many things will test us and our love, sometimes it will smart,
We always rise above and beyond where we did start.

It is one wedding, my love, let them have it,
I will celebrate you every day, time permit,

Take off your blindfold, my love, see our life anew.
On my lips, you will find the only clue,
I love you.

Penned by my hand on Gosday, the 12th of Midsummer, in the year 485 MA.