In accord with the prophesy dreamed,
Amid the warring factions and minds,
At Worldstar's point they gather.
They are fewer this time, than last.
Some lost, one fallen, one dreaming.
Relics they bring, from neverplaces.
Angel now fallen and cast out of Iyant,
The Shield of Oceans fused to his arm,
Stands where Ra dies an old man.
The Arbutan Staff begins the helix' bend,
At polar north where dragons hunt,
Where the gate to Noctus is unlocked.
By portent or design, irony or humour,
The cursed Corpus Occuli stands at East,
Borne by nightmare crossed with flesh.
The jewels of life taken from death's shore,
Closes the helix, completing the cycle,
By the hand of faery, may they return.
Doomed to fail, as all things are by fate,
For at the center one who is awake speaks,
And he has died unable to speak the words.
