Per me si va ne la città dolente, per me si va ne l'etterno dolore, per me si va tra la perduta gente. Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore: fecemi la divina podestate, la somma sapienza e 'l primo amore. Dinanzi a me non fuor cose create se non etterne, e io etterno duro. Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'entrate I’ve reached the bottom floor. The place where sweet velvet petal roses reaches the knees above the deeply layer floor of glass beneath the feet. The flowers are sweet reminders of the ?fantasy?world in which you lived within the mind only. The glass is the world of the ?reality?But there is a line crossing of worlds which I’ve yet to cross. A simple line without word of fantasy or reality. I’m taking my time enjoying the evenings of freshly scented flowers and morning sipping of blood tea. The taste is darling as the cherries on the snow topped trees. But the seasons are soon to run out, even the kisses to the razor winged butterflies will soon leave my soul. I was never bothered in this land until I found the clocks are crashing down time is running out within this land, becoming old with such a soul I’ve done nothing with. I have returned as of 9/10. It's been a long road out of Hell, and I am still on the side used as a dancer of fools.