human
Now.
gpt
Please go on for a minute longer,
human
My throat feels dry all at once.
gpt
Face away from the rest, towards me,
human
In the lodge of the Mother of Men, In the land of Desire, Are the embers of fire, Are the ashes of those who return, Who return to the world: Who flame at the breath Of the Mockers of Death. O Sweet, we will voyage again To the camp of Love's fire, Nevermore to return!
gpt
How am I doing?