Journey

Sit down, oh troubled wandering soul, share your tales untold.

Of all you've seen on your shining, winding road of old.
With ink of blood we'll pen the tales of worlds that fade,
In memory's grasp, we'll slowly, inevitably cascade.

Craft now your tale, before the ink of life does wane,
Before fleeting moments slip, leaving naught but pain.
For now, the die is cast, destiny's decree is clear,
Let your voice ring out, let your story draw near.