in what dark recesses of torture remain
exists a dreaded seed for us to obtain
to keep us sane and deliver us from evil
so goes the creed of an everlasting people
unending doubt resonates to be
impermanance rooted in an everlasting dream
scarcity of hope glimmering in dusk
prevention of fortune in a world of luck
forever told from stories past
eerily reminiscent of perpetual task
systems of new destroyed wisdom once known
for all apart of a world unsown
grimmace and malice plagued once more
in dire times that conjured vile scorn
but it was hope that was given once last chance
now grows a tree from the seed of our past