Do the Garuda know what you've done, Young firebird?
Do they call you serpent, and scorn your wings?
Your remorse means little to those gone before.
Your blaze of glory is the desire of a child. Inept.
Called and bound, held by your name.
Called once, twice, thrice, by the shape of your soul.
Doubt not that the calling still lingers.
Doubt not that my eyes are on upon you.

Until next time, be strong.
Until next time, be prepared. Δ