All at one and at peace yet just part of a whole,
One half of perfection thus not at all
To walk into the dark grey ocean and ne'r return
Swim without a care in the world to fret

To hear the soft wind whisper in my ears
As I satisfy the urge for the thrill of the hunt
And racing a prey with hate nonexistant.
How can I explain a feeling I hardly understand?

Wondering, Why do we love? Why do we hate?
What is sorrow and why does it push itself at us?
The rustle of leaves, silence of the dead,
Trinkle of the stream, all languages we never hear.

The dead seek rest, the rest seek power,
the power seeks more, and more die everyday.
Why do I feel at peace while in chaos?
Maybe stress sleeps and worry waits until I'm done
Until I'm whole again.

Penguin Prankster Selerin Keyte, The Roderickian Groupie

Penned by my hand on the 17th of Ero, in the year 350 AF.