Beauté

La Chanson est forte. Trés forte. Mes dieus. So close...so close...so close.
 
Is it pleased with me? Have I done the right thing? But I killed.
Is it the killing that was right? C'était juste? Was it ordained? Qu'en pense-t-il? How does it think?
 
What do I need to do to bring the Song closer? How do I hear more? Y a t-il plus?
 
Is it that we are closer to what it wants? Or that I am doing the right thing? We haven't been travelling long enough to be anywhere near what Grandmère described.
 
Is La Chanson pleased or trying to get my attention?
 
C'est tellement belle. Très. Magnifique.
 
I will always do as it asks. Toujours.
 
That is terrifying, but...soothing. I will always do as it asks.
 
Vee is with me. He is always with me. He always will be.
 
What were we doing that pleased it? I want to do it again. Encore et encore. If it is the only way to hear La Chanson, I will do it.
 
Grandmère, did you feel this? C'était vous? Am I following in your footsteps?
 
Does La Chanson have enemies? Do people hate La Chanson?
 
No one. No one. Vee must be mistaken. It is too beautiful. Maybe jealous, maybe...but not...
 
No one could hate such wonder.