I am not here to apprise the accounts of a traveler.
Nor am I here to discuss the tales of an impecunious maiden.
I transpire lands that bear no purport.
No meaning and no word and no radiance, and you.
Well… one is sometimes incapable of keeping body and soul together.
Lips would transform to stone as they may now.
Hearts would beat with irregular footsteps.
Ears would go blind.
Don’t test to recite that your chapters will strive.
There is no surviving, even for the frail.
As for the robust, they're first to depart...
For the strong are always left tendering the weak.
It wasn’t ideal settlement, was it?
You feel Rage.
You must be a monster.
You have to be a monster.
What else is competent of emotions so dead?
The grave, the grave perceives all!