Rememberest me, Thou Who art True Remembrance
Count me alongside those few things which Are
Limned with the flames of what waits, though unwritten
I'll turn to ash to brew ink, though unbidden

Know my name: Nothingness, darkness resplendent
Font of potential, a penstroke ascendant
Think me oblivion yearning to Be
Wonder what currents I'll stir once I'm free

Call me anathema, mark me as sacred
Strip me to essence and know me when naked
I'll become flesh again, keep not my scars
Life is blank vellum which living but mars

Take me in hand as Your imperfect implement
Let me surprise You, wield discord as instrument
I might amuse You with strangest amendments
Rememberest me, Thou who art True Remembrance

Penned by my hand on Falsday, the 12th of Lexadian, in the year 13 AC.