With Obscured Hand, I glean over my reinstallation of Morrowind with a Mind's Eye of electricity, sparks and maniacal cackling. Soon,...Frankenstein will be alive!
And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed. I long for scenes where man hath never trod A place where woman never smiled or wept There to abide with my Creator, God, And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept, Untroubling and untroubled where I lie The grass below—above the vaulted sky.”