Burned into the tattered tapestry of the foreboding sky, are faded traces of forgotten sunlight; as the fragments of ashes rain, scattered over the vast distance that separates contentment from isolation. Futility is absolute, and alone and misguided are those who would tread this mire; so cold and deep.
Lost are all who traverse these ominously twisting paths, for hope is only a mockery of its own illusion.