Woe, fate is but a darkened web,
Even the Almighty finds Herself ensnared within its threads,
From the blood that flows, lineage is born,
Growing in a land overshadowed by eternal dusk,

Generations rise like trees without roots,
Slow, yet steadfast, reaching for the empty heavens,
Time marches on like winds that tear at the sky,
Passing once, like rain that never returns,

Life unfolds without ambition, like a ship sinking,
Love, blind in the eternal night,
The mother slain by the fire of wrath that burns,
A shattered soul cast into the nameless void,

He weds with the blood of kin,
Ignoring the blaze of his fathers vengeful wrath,
Swallowed by temptation, his soul blinded by dark power,
Destroying all with a false promise,

Then the father departs, cast out in fury,
His rage echoing in the long silence,
The weapon, like a dragon awakened from slumber,
Strikes down what it once nourished, trembling under sin,

Yet life never follows a simple measure,
Karma arrives, retracing the path of destinys hand,
The father falls at the hands of his grandchild,
Ending the endless vengeance in an unbroken circle.

Penned by my hand on the 5th of Daedalan, in the year 965 AF.