Tears.

Pounding rain
from the depths of my soul.

Fears.

Childish apparitions
of a past long forgotten.

Apathy.

Occasional thoughts
from a cold, unchanging world.

Pity.

Insistent desires
to cleanse unfeeling souls.

Persistence.

Straining madly
to pursue my only truth.

Joy.

Finally seeing
the path before me.

Tears.

Pounding rain
from the depths of my soul.

Penned by my hand on the 11th of Ios, in the year 161 MA.