I have been called many things; heretic, liar, ugly, scared and evil. Now they can add believer to the painful enumerate. It is in my nature and royal blood, and now that I’m healed I am justified for this bashful pride. Romulus, Remus and Titus. The Holy Trinity! May God remind me never to wash this face with nothing ‘xempt for any thing save the holy-holiest of fluids. The purest water on Gods grassy sphere would not suffice in cleansing what is already sacred. Simply it would wash away the miracle! As Achillies before me dipped in the River Styx, I am fatally mortal now in flawed areas. No complaints will you find here if you are seeking so! I could be Vespasian. Vespasian whose face burns like it had been conquered by Nero! With arms so slender they could be nailed to the lyre in lieu of strings! A musical rood for thought! Let me grab my parchment, Domitian will for sure enjoy that ruse. He always had father’s sense of humor and mothers sense of dying too young.
God has without a doubt bestowed upon Brother Sir Sabin with the sure gift of the gab. Lion of language is he, my faith! If I lay my lions near his coat-tails I pray his talents trickle atop my head and I too can carry over such high levels of oration! Therefore, I hope, and I pray, to the Father the Son and the Holy Spirit, to one day possess such talent to spread the good word.