As I lie dying it is as abandoned as deadly wings!
A figure of heartache mourns, pointlessly.
Has my thunderbolt extinguished my gothyck memories?
The warrior falling beneath an uncaring memory waits for the sky of stillness within the lost mirage, unseeingly.
Have the seeds outlasted the stormclouds?
Why indeed are tornadoes unforgiven?
A dragon seethes...
Those spirits disintegrate!
Their fools know my temple already.
Why indeed do I disintegrate agonizingly?
It rages, as vainly as their explosion lying upon a long-lost brother.
In the garden, after the rain.
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