Is the night upon us?, I feel it's hand,
Wandering, lost, fearing that which I dream,
Will the sight bond us?, all that is grand,
Wandering, lost, fearing that which I am.

Pretense to failure, questions to succeed,
Enthralled by this moment, this force I feed,
Sight upon darkness, intertwined I awake,
Mistaken, soul breaking, path of escape.

Above me is nothing, no limit I see,
Below me is all, and nothing I need,
Shackled dissipation,
Forgotten realization,
The escape of life from a dying breed.

And to those who sound the internal cry,
Fueled by the pain, and lonesome refine,
The walls of existence crumble away,
The new breed arise, and all is to gain.

Is the moment now?, I steal it's hand,
Creation divine, erosion of man,
Pondering cost, searing pain I've forseen,
Will the sight bond us?, fate will succeed,
Inside they feel broken, tormented, demented,
Together we'll find, no one we'll need.

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Slyphian, in the year 56 MA.