She does not know what she means anymore. She cannot. Those words must be . . . wrong. I cannot accept that truth. Not that one. The Oracle has lost her powers. How long, I wonder has she been without? Am I the first to recognize her error? She must know her strength is at an end. She must know her powers have waned and that the words she spews – foul venomous words! – will soon do the world more harm than good if she continues. Or is she unaware? Did the power depart, only to leave its certainty behind? Is she babbling on with every confidence, unaware that it is now lies she tells? It matters not. The flow of words must be seen for what it is, but I dare not announce to the world that her Truth has fled. The questions they would ask, my own prophecy to be revealed? Never! That blasphemy shall never again be spoken, it’s only grace is that it has revealed to me her error. I wonder if this is what she wants? Is this why she uttered so false a phrase, to inspire the recognition and urge me to do what I must? It must be so, she knew, and so knowing welcomes my next act. Barbarity, savagery, others will call it thus when they see the result, but she will know. I act out of love. I do this for love of her.