It’s turning inward now, reflecting back an image. I observe the disgust and despair folding pages over.
There’s new lines being written, fresh ink flowing down. Several blotches are smeared.
It’s unfortunate. I understand the language, and can’t translate the results.
You’ll have to infer the knowledge without loosing your head. One of those impossibly convoluted side-quests on order.
It won’t be long now, till the shoe finds the other foot
leaving scuff marks on the floor