Walking in moonlight,
I feel the joy of the world wrap around me
I beg to take part in this night
but something binds me I'm unable to see.
I feel a gag around my mouth, cutting off my air,
the ties around my wrists, the covering over my eyes,
And a slightly tender, curling mist, the finger of despair.
Killing off all thought but lies.
Cold death and light, both intermitten,
No poem about love, or hate,
For life was this poem written,
and death, the thing to aggravate
Those who's only world is light.
Those that can't understand, and so fight.

Penned by my hand on the 7th of Arios, in the year 100 MA.