It is the Inevitable that stirs me,
Seeing all through a fast leaving window,
Binding my Soul to my Gods,
Breaking the foundations of Time,
Though it is He who sends them.
It Begins with a Dream,
It Progresses with a Curse,
It Flows with a Whim,
And it Ends with a Nightmare,
Though it should be thought avoidable.
Only few will remain unaware,
Though still all will be changed,
And with the Lighting of the Spire,
What was shall be lost,
And what is shall never have happened.
It is this which is to be,
And that which still is,
What used to be here,
And what shall be then,
And everything that shall become one.
If head not be taken,
And it is seen not to be,
With great regret and disappointment,
The night shall come to be,
And the Wild of Survival with it....
xxxxxxxxxxxxx--- Φη Oβσєvєρ oє Nιγιλɑvσє
