Journal entry burned -
Entry previously read as follows:
Softbound Journal #1, page 3 of (25 scratched out and next to it 24 is written. Flipping to the back, page 25 has been torn out)
With rather small shears, the grass shall be cut
by kindly sweet Keeper of old.
A mem'ry quite poor, but one thing he knows,
He says he prefers his tea cold.
We're strangers in here, and knowing not what
direction we needed to head,
He helped us explore and run from the blows
of those who would like us all dead.
Then into the room he keeps full of books
came walking a beautiful elf.
The Keeper, he smiled. It seemed she was eyed
above any tome on his shelf.
As mysteries loom, we all exchanged looks
as numbers and dates all seemed wrong.
This new world was wild. We'll need them to guide
lest we too be stuck here too long.
A seasonal place. A chamber intact
with symbols that vary in fours.
We'll fumble around, just grasping for straws,
exploring the rooms behind doors.
To fill in the space, both feeling and fact
were given some thought and some weight.
Then, elements found, and many a pause,
we lined up accepting our fate.
A candle appeared. An end to that game,
then back with the Keeper we talked
Deciding for good to stay all as one,
together we hurriedly walked.
Then just as we feared, the enemies came
proclaiming we could not remain.
We did what we could, we all tried to run,
yet still our dear Keeper was slain.
But lining of gold on clouds that seem black,
Our ally once lost joined our plight.
The Keeper's life lost would not be in vain
The exit was now just in sight.
Dear Keeper of old, please find your way back.
Your spirit deserves a true rest.
Despite the high cost, regardless the pain,
I trust this was all for the best.