i never wanted to be this far
into the business of heaven
chasing my father hunting
his soul in the hell and
brim and stone of claw cove
but the prelates way carried me
from crashing water to dashing hopes
cold fingers clenched in cold blood
hot on the way of Hillwalk.
our fate estranged was wreaked for ever
by pride unshrived by creed or church;
a posthumous residuum herein froze
in the clave of a juvenescent heart.




Penned by my hand on the 14th of Lupar, in the year 895 AF.