Dost thou dare venture into the painted world?
What seeketh thee, in the grey realm?
If thou wish is to find solace then thou shall be disappointed.
There is nothing for thee here, leave!
But why dost thou not leave?
It is far too cold, for someone so old and frail.
Yet still, thou hath decided to stay, untouched by the pale faces.
Whence cometh thou, that thou knows not fear?
Art thou blind, dying man, or art thou merely a fool?
Lost, art thou, a man unable to find his way?
Dost thou not know that thou shall perish?
Thou see not, the black maiden?
And yet thou worries not, for what cometh from the dark?
Thou cry not black tears, thou smiles.
Dost thou enjoy this miserable place?
Dost thou enjoy what our Father has left behind?
I leave thee, tainted soul, to rot.
I bequeath to thee unending misery and pain.
Thou past shall be thou grave.
There shall be no future for thee.
An eternal curse, thou is history.