I am as lost as you, crawling through the desert like a serpent, seeking venom hidden within the stones' embrace. Through the labyrinth of dunes I slither, across my path lie the scattered scorpions and remnants of what once breathed, now mere echoes. 

Night's blood begins to spill from your hands, In the fields of light you desperately try to cleanse the stars, But they linger, unyielding. We have entered a new era of morbidity. A cycle turned tradition, a ritual of wounds too deep, too wide, to ever be closed. The rift yawns open once more, a new path carved in the void, while ghosts of the past whisper their litany, foretelling the fate that shadows us.