Hope is an illusion,
for the dim and the weak
A crutch to lean upon,
for the soft and the meek

Into the Spiral,
we'll all fall
On hands and knees,
we'll all crawl

To be shattered,
and broken askew
To be moulded,
fashioned anew

Break these illusions;
Sunder your chains,
Cast aside hesitations;
Be whole again.


Penned by my hand on Gosday, the 18th of Celes, in the year 7 AC.