...and still it seems as though my screams are caught...
...in the hailstorm that rages around me. Numbed by dissent of my true hearts intent, I carry with me a scroll whereupon written in ancient symbols of lore, are plans devised by suffering eyes, and thoughts despised by the changing tides...and within these thoughts are sown seeds, and carefully tended sprouts in dire need of the fragile dew that forms around her heart like life anew in the earliest morn before the cautious sun has had the slightest chance to shine through. I fumble with a heavy heart and wonder why we are apart when everything has been so carefully planned by the glorious king of the undying lands. And in her eyes I see no sign of the love that is branded on my soul like fire and hell...like the deepest darkness borne of what naught could tell...and I fall and fall with no one to catch me. And yet I must trudge on. For there is no hope where I now stand.
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