Be complacent, those of you existing within your own acedia, knowing Belphegor will grip your thin fleeting ankles to drag you back below the fog under which the light radiates all the more lovely. Bear with the sullen smoke filling your lonely lungs, for if you cling to it deeply long enough, you will exhale the ghosts away in a calming breath. Sleep soundly, evading your tristitia inside of your dreams, believing tomorrow will bring the relief you’ve been awaiting for so very long. And if these sorrows pool too deep to drown your hope, you can use your rafters for gallows to escape this world to lay yourself to rest with your ennui for all eternity.
