"From tales told of hollowed gods, and from folktales told of the drones, it is I who weeps upon of hearing this goodness-forsaken news, I hoped the day wouldn't come, yet, our creator has abandoned us." Where there is snow, a lake will grow.
Frozen in time, you decided to pay him a visit, even after you cut his cords thin, spat in his face, and called him a fool. He had dreams that you crushed, yet you were too blind to see what he saw, to deaf to hear what he heard, and too heartless to feel what he felt.
