Under moonlight's quiet sway,
Things begin to shift and turn
When we drift too far away.

Days pass by in silent tides,
As I walk the Shadow's art,
Hands now shaping something more
From the fires on my heart.

I am proud, the board now filled
With the feelings of our kind,
Echoes cast in living words,
Leaving lesser forms behind.

I can stir, inspire, reshape,
Bend the weight of what we see,
Bring both wonder and unrest
Into quiet symmetry.

My grandfather's voice returned,
Through the grace of a legion,
With a mentor's steady light
I reclaimed what once was sand.

Iron-bound and spirit-sworn,
I now stand ... and I become
Not what I was shaped to be,
But the force I rise from.

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Mayan, in the year 1001 AF.