Whispers, Travelling with the wind Like fragments of unbecoming, the gathering of our sins. Crying, tears from the blind man. Now you see so much better without eyes, when something dies. He sees the unbecoming. The one's nevermade. The unmaking (of worlds) he knows them. This man now weeps and prays. No. This wasn't meant to be. In all the dreams that I have dreamt this wasn't our destiny. As explorer of earths and adventurer of the stars I know that I should've known. Now the sorrow spectrum grows and the world will stay unsaved. I know that I should've seen. I know the unbecoming. The worlds nevermade. The unmaking, I know them. And now I weep and pray. Whispers, Travelling...
Now, the darkday has come. Now O know, now I see, that evil never dies, it just sleeps. It just sleeps...