I break the seal on this black quill and break the chains of life
Aiming that, as they clatter down, I'll run into the night;
I'll leave behind my mortal woes and, maddened, wander far
Into a black and inky land to gather up the stars.

Burn hot, they will, and silence still the failings of my heart for you
And lie to me, sweet blasphemy, of joys I've yet to harken to.

Penned by my hand on the 15th of Daedalan, in the year 452 AF.