A worm crawls slowly along the ground,
On barren soil, forsaken and bound.
Hunger writhes within its empty core,
When a robed figure appears at its door.

Whispers of promises clothed in grace,
Yet beneath, deceit finds its place.
The innocent worm, led astray,
Mistakes the darkness for lights way.

Days go by, the seasons turn,
Ambition kindles, the heart does burn.
From the earth, it looks toward the sky,
Aiming to rule, though dreams are shy.

Now cruel, it seeks its prey,
Running, crying, in disarray.
Chasing fame through lies and pain,
Forgetting its humble roots in vain.

But the heavens hear its boastful cry,
A mighty eagle swoops from the sky.
Its scream fades, unheard and lost,
Forgotten in an instant, at great cost.

A child then asks with innocent care,
"Why was its life so brief, so rare?"
I answer softly, without regret,
"No one remembers, and I forget."

Penned by my hand on the 7th of Aeguary, in the year 967 AF.