("None are so hopelessly enslaved as those who falsely believe they are
free.")

To know what it is, this thing you call your Life -
nothing more than a collection of suff'ring and strife.
That from whence you are born you inevitably fade
and your karma will see that your deeds, all, are paid

back in threes for the harm and the cruelty you wrought.
Yet, the hourglass sands hold few back from what's sought
out of hunger for forbidden knowledge's fruit
and disdain for restrictions placed 'pon truth's pursuit.

Some scholars, content to remain in veritas abstraction
are content "just to know", and thus gain satisfaction.
Over tomes and through scrolls do the keener ones pore
in their hopes to repeat cruel experiments of lore.

They are driv'n by lusts they care not to control
and see not the perils which risk them their soul -
or perhaps seek to circumvent justice's gaze
and think nought of the wrong or the right of their ways.

Yet the consequences clearly remain once the deed
has been done, accoladed; or damned by the creed
of those folk for whom freedom is bought not with death
of innocents, blood shed, who breathed their last breath

In pain and confusion. No power bought thus
can be cleansed of the wrongdoing perceived by us
and by powers above and beyond mortal ken.
Towards evil tilt Miramar's scales once again.

There are few who could hold to a claim that their rise
into paramountcy came without penalty or price.
Those, though, who take what is not theirs to give -
long will you suffer, and with the chains of guilt forever live.

Penned by my hand on the 24th of Daedalan, in the year 363 AF.