A broken shield, resistant to thine own plagues, rots into the frost that enshrouds the world. Nothing moves now, and I am as pale as the land upon which I’ve fallen to my knees. Thine veil has now unfurled, and it’s all become clear. Their frozen, dying faces, bathed in the cold sheaths of dawn. Now, I realise who I am; A ghost of a memory that’s not worth remembering. A phantom from an empty chamber of forgotten time. The dying light beyond her eyes…They were indeed, of my ilk…