The Wander’s Curse

The older I get the more
I realize that the tale of men
Is a sad tale to tell
Second chances exist
But darkness descends
Ghost of ourselves
Ghost of self-reflection
Holding time still but
Hope in ashes and dust
A war within the race of eternity
A war within the paragon of existence

Where the ghost of my past self, haunts my present

My brothers and I have always dreamed of a future

Where men can be great, where men can be remembered

If not for their woes and worries,

Then for their valor and bravery

I will seek an end for this wanderer’s tale

Where my curses lay bare

Where the tale of men has caught up to sins

And my name.

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