(Sometimes death is the only option.)
Lokin
The untamed fire,
And flow of water edge.
The touch of hallowed ground,
And the shift of withered death.
The hope of untrue light,
And speech of wrongs unright.
The need for life,
And the miss of sight.
We will never forget,
And always face the torment.
The waves beating;
The winds breaking;
Stillness will never be calm.
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