You know not what you speak.
Love long lost lasts lifetimes,
Life lies broken on the shore.
And your rambling is just rambling.
Let those who mourn,
Let them mourn,
Let them mourn as they wish,
For you know not what you speak.
Don't lay your hands on that you do not understand,
For it may come back to you.
And I wish this not,
Not even for the most despicable.

For when you mention pain,
It is merely its finger brushing against you,
Brushing against the end of your longest hair.
But the kiss of pain is cold,
Its kiss is warm.
Its kiss burns, and freezes.
And its embrace is tight,
Its embrace smothers that frail flame.
The frail flame that keeps you alive.
And I wish this not,
Not even for the ones who speak,
Without knowing.

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Ios, in the year 127 MA.