For the love of the era

I like to see myself as an armour,
shielding the past from the attacks of the condescending presence. Whether you’d like to take a stab at the armor or be the padding for my cuirie, I bid you to stay, and allow me to take you back to the time of beauty, pain, tall cathedrals and stooping huts, public baths and mortification, battles, passion, love and promiscuity, self-denial and the godlessness.