Dark flames doth lick at the fringes of my mind
Through forge sharpened eyes is reality my thrall
With steady hand I weave the galactic snare
To deter and restrain the lawlessness of
rebellion's zeal.
Where am I, lost among these grand machinations?
The fate of my soul ignored, uncared.
Overlayed, these weak thoughts must be
With worship of power, shaded in anger.
Where am I, within the shadow eternal?
At its center, conducting its godly flow.
-By Tetrarch Vassan Rokir
