By sorrowful waters I have long dwelt.
By the rushing of winds is where I have made my abiding place.
Turbulent ground, where ones bones turn to dust, is where I walk.
I know naught of the path I am taking, and ere I reach the end, I feel my doom is nigh.
The Ocean of Storms has caught up.
I thought I could put it off, yet it is fast approaching.
Oft have I wandered, in days long sped, the paths of darkness.
Why do I choose to walk with the Blind Ones? Did I not hearken to the wailing of the Beloved Ones?
The Night is chilling...
The Stars have grown pale...
I have been fooled by the delusional idea of waxing control, when in reality my strength wanes.
I yearn for the Days, the Days ere the frost fell upon me.
Ere the happy condition of the heart fled on forsaken wings.
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