Gwyndolin, son of Gwyn, mourns at the alter of his begotten father, the once righteous King in an age of fire.

May I atone for this cataclysm;

This deception of an entire kingdom?

My family fled from frightful evil

While I toiled with lunar zeal.

Depravity was our natural state,

But thanks to the power of the arcane

I could shroud our palace in flame.

Oh what glorious luminescence!

‘Twas all a lie for mortal eyes.

Rejected souls, hear my message.

‘Tis better to mature yourself

Than allow your innocence to be squelched.

12 December 2016