Is it to be within the heart
To know not of what is meant
To truly be torn apart
By the cruel waves that has been sent

Though knowth not do I
As broken wings fall
Through the almost limitless sky
Until the blackness encompasses all

Ah, though that wound from once is gone
From a spell so deep and good
This remedy was like some sweet spell
And deserve it I did not, nor should

Though thankful shall I be
And thankful I am
What oddities called upon me
That this might be some illusionists sham...


Penned by my hand on the 5th of Scarlatan, in the year 464 AF.