“I know we haven’t always gotten along.”

Nominee for understatement of the year goes it…

“You’ve tried to kill me more times than I can count.”

The artisan creates art. He can’t be held responsible for how it’s used.

But yeah, I did. How do you say it? Equal and opposite. I move. It’s not my fault if flesh tries to slow me down.

“I’m willing to forget all of that.”

Really? Even given what you are?

Because that’s bullshit. I’ve been through your scars. Flesh can’t forget.

“Forgive then.”

And what about what you’ve done. I can see where this is going. The artistry you’ve torn down. Walls of murals, carved doors, diamond thrones, etched surfaces. All torn down.

I’m listening.

“I… I can stop.”

You can’t. It’s your nature now.

I won’t say no. But I got to admit. I see a lot of flying shards.

“But you have to promise something.”

Promises… what are they in the face of artistry? How dare you demand in the face of what you’ve done!

One thing? Again I’m listening…. So long as it isn’t to remain still.

“And if you don’t… you know my nature. What I’ve done. I require no work man’s wrath. I will tear you done. Stop your movement.”

You dare! Threaten me?

You’ve already got my attention. I’ve seen what you can do. You don’t scare me. Motion will never stop because of you. You’ve got you stick and I’m within it. What’s your carrot?

“I’ll…. I’ll learn to build something. I'll promise. Without your help. Moving art. IF! IF you help me do one thing.”

There was a long silence. Then Ram started singing again.