Ye, whose essence was wended by celestial hands, didst scribe his chronicle upon the fragments of vellum, scarce, after the ill-starred fates didst cradle him. They shalt descend, melancholic in their script, wavering in their stride. As if their tale might be lost when life no longer lingereth, they shalt sigh their swan song in the cadence of poesy, everlasting.
Anon, they shalt gird themselves for eulogium, to elevate their moniker as the scribe whose creation endureth through tribulation. Their appellation shalt be engraved, wrought from the sequence of woe that heralded forth disaster.
ㅤ CHRONICLES ODE: TWIXT SORROW & ENIGMATIC.
ADIPATTI +‘ SOOTH—DOOM: ESTEEMED FEUD
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Yips in church: met hellion—domned creatures shackled by doubt, they crave freedom, an escape from life's cruel bonds. Innerheart by: fool! annihilation domain.
