Chapter 1: Forgotten Tale

Wondrous is the truth to the sacred mind's palace. Unobtainable and strewn from corpses long withered away by madness. To understand the unobtainable and discover one's existence in the fervor of soaked nights the very man must throw selflessly to the rumbling pot. Ready he is for the truth just as in death. Await he must for the future regrets lain in steady barrels and pointed tips followed not far by the glint of a murderous aura is to come and flow around his body like nothing but a passing drizzle. Rumble, Rumble the cauldron goes. Stirring its innards into a chaotic fashion. The sought truth muddied by continued sin and glorified by the rumbling crowds. Rumble, Rumble he cries all the same. Crying for all yet not himself, for his path was paved and all that remained is the edging truth winking under the moonlight, casted far over the dunes of a beach. To the dunes he returns without stop. To the moment he recounts in stinted shudders. Despite the persisting horrors, steadfast is the soul sacrificed to its Creator. Buckle he can't, cower he may not, as his life is not to be selfishly thrown in the vein of a bastard. The Creator gave him life, so he follows a plotted point. That is how the cycle is to be, isn't it?