the three
I stride through a dark forest
blade at my side
out of the branches and the storm come three
In cowls, clothes and cloaks of blackest night and swords held high
I draw my sword the bright steel flowing through them
and me following behind
one. two. three. they fall

I sheath my sword and continue but
the three rise once more and draw back their hoods
and I see my own face
They say
We are
anger says the first
pain says the second
sorrow says the last
"we cannot be beaten because we are part of you
the things you try to hide those things that are too painful to face
but we are still here"

I see the truth they are right
I see the light and realize
That there is a way
I draw my sword again and this time the blade glows
I think of the future and the light grows stronger
The light comes not from some mystical energy
but the most powerful thing in the heart and mind
Hope



-Avras

Penned by my hand on the 5th of Chronos, in the year 282 AF.