Through the only window the last light of the sun streamed in, assisted only by a single dancing candle in its endeavor to chase the oppressive evening shadows from the corners of the room.
Kasamir sat at the small desk beside his bed, hunched over the only sheet of parchment upon its surface that hadn't been crumbled up and tossed aside haphazardly, of which there were many. A quill pen rested in his hand as his forest-green eyes stared down at what few lines he'd managed to put upon the sheet.
"…never suspected as you appeared, that I was worthy of your…" He muttered, re-reading aloud the same line he'd be stuck on the past several minutes. "Of her what? Schaiss, of her everything!" He exclaimed softly, sighing as he shook his head down at the parchment.
He stared at the line still yet to be finished.
"Love? I already said love…" He groaned. "And I already changed that around earlier. Curse it all!" He balled up the parchment, throwing it aside to join the others cast upon the floor.
Setting the quill pen down, Kasamir stood up, bracing his hands upon his back as he twisted and stretched out the stiffness that the extensive period of stagnation had brought him. Pacing the room, he ran the verse through his head multiple times from the beginning, always hanging up at the same point.
"Damn. Every time I try my hand at this, I gain newfound respect for the bards of the world." He lamented, gaze flickering back to the empty space on the desk where the parchment had sat. Suddenly, he stopped where he was, staring blankly at the desk surface until he stepped back up and sat back down, snatching up the quill pen once more.
Laying out another sheet of parchment, he dabbed the quill pen in his inkwell and set it to the membrane.
"I…sit…alone…this…coming…night…" He said as he wrote. "My mind…almost…split…in two…."
A small chuckle escaped him as he fell silent, wordlessly moving his mouth along with the words as he continued.
Slowly, the light of the sun departed from the world and his room, disappearing from his sight. Still, he hardly noticed as he steadily wrote line after line, his only companion in the now-dark world the flickering candle upon his desk.
Night had all but completely set in when he sat the quill pen down, straightening out his back before he leaned in once more, his eyes scanning the poem, line by line, from the beginning. As he did so, his weary expression began to break apart to permit a ghost of a smile to grace his lips.
'I sit, alone this coming night,
my mind almost split in two,
just to endeavor to put to words
how deep my love is for you.
I never suspected as you appeared
that my heart would be so bound
so that my every thought was fixed
on this beautiful woman I found.
She banishes all my doubts and fears
with but a word and a kiss.
My nights are restful in her arms
and my days with her are bliss.
Of all the things in all this world
for which I could desire,
I wish only to see her when I wake
and to hold her when I retire.
Perhaps it's true my heart is mad
that I am so enslaved,
but I'm in too deep to ever care,
for it was this heart she saved.'
Exhaling contentedly, he nodded as he sat the sheet down, standing up from his chair to begin preparing for bed.
"I'll write the actual letter tomorrow…" He told himself as the verses ran over and over in his head. "The important part's out of the way."
