Ah yes, the old dost rise amongst the new
And with the dead, forgotten comes the storm
And with the squall dost rise a shadowed form
Between the dark miasma thou hast gazed
And yet the light is nowhere to be found
For yes, the old, risen amongst the new
Has half done paintings, words once left unsaid
And yes, his shadow blots out all the sky
Betwixt the dance of past and future thread
Reflected in the young ones' diamond eye
Before him dost the old rise from the dark

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Sarapin, in the year 479 AF.