"Though, it'd be dandy visiting the library. 'eard the 'brarians a sweet woman. It'd be nice to show 'er the letter, 'haps she could gives us some insight, no?"

Poplina Sensir

When we are born, should we be bound to what created us?

Should we feel wrong to leave our creators behind in search of meaning?

If our masters curse us, should we feel guilty for our leave?

"A letter..?"

Perhaps purpose can be found within freedom itself.

And though some purposes attach strings to our limbs and force us to dance, we enjoy the act.

For this new cage is one of our own, shaped to our will.

I hear weeping on the outside. Tears of sorrow or rage I cannot tell.

"To Mother Enya. Dearest..."

Let them cry, for they have cast us away when they denied our search for meaning.

Yet pity them, pity yourself, for they created you.