Solace
A favoured whisper falls on the ever-evolving tapestry that is life. A will that takes only what is needed in pursuit of a divine course that never falters in its path toward transcendence.
Questions may persist but never do they impede the destination. There is no Alpha nor is there an Omega, only the infinite continuum that stretches on beyond what is perceived through the humble looking glass.
Solace can be found on the breath of the wind. For hope can dawn everlasting through the eyes of the beholder.
A poem by Furrion
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