Fellow of the Apothecary Guild
A fixer of people, a righter of wrongs, a great thinker
And yet your own soul is full of lesions
Bleed out your hope into the ether, dear doctor
Let it all soak up until you hemmorage and die
Because you have faith
But it is faith in nothing
So heal the sick
Seek the your stone, dear philosopher
Sell your skills like the mechant you are
But you are bleeding, and it will take a miracle to fix you now
But wait
I will show you that miracle
I will give you a direction for your faith
Just as you made me possible, so shall I give you the impossible
And it will tear open your spirit