We demand,
As we are led with nothing to nowhere,
We cry out for more.
And these aren't the numbers,
This isn't the story as we approach the end
Our destination is clear.

Crystal clear like the shards of glass,
The pieces surround me as I take my leap,
Through my soul.

We demand,
And we follow blindly behind our prophecies,
Promises that nothing awaits us,
We believe them,
We understand that the choice is not there.
And that we are abandoned.

Abandoned like the shards of glass,
The pieces that lay behind me while I escape,
Through my soul.

Penned by my hand on the 6th of Miraman, in the year 597 AF.