All about Regalia, no places exactly but all over, the papers of a infamous poet would be found. Written in occasionally in red ink, rather than black, the papers could appear quite startling- but all up the first streets and down through the last, the papers stated quite clearly:
The wildfire of plague now does burn slowly,
My poems by now have become quite known.
While I can't quite pinpoint why,
I have a guess,
I have a single one.
You people, those of Regalia,
The ones that hold their heads so high,
Believe me not one of their faithful,
Believe me not to be like their kind.
While I am just like any other-
An Ailor, a person, a man.
I can say quite clearly I am different,
For unlike them, I don't rely on religion as a plan.
The Spirit will not save, be known now.
The Emperor, what does he do but bellow?
For once in your lives be open,
Don't close your eyes,
Your ears, like a child.
For while I might be viewed as different,
Perhaps heretical,
Perhaps Jacobin,
I can say without a doubt in my mind,
That my word is as good as gold.
Listen to me, dear Regalians.
Don't be fooled by the ones on a throne.
-Icarus Albatross
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