And still I turn to words--
Crumbling towers, fallen faith,
a spiral into the void.

Where I kept my feet going,
Still waters sinking, feeling,
Cut by knives deep into my being

And still I turn to words,
No halls where cries would echo,
Worth bled, dried by godless swords

Are you worthy?
Are you worthy?
Are you worthy?

And still I turn to words.

Penned by my hand on the 17th of Daedalan, in the year 951 AF.