A morn will come when you’ll wake and feel,
No will to live, no more.
And on such a morn, you must power through,
To meet what lies in store.
The lands that stretch around your house,
Did not give up one day;
When the rains refused to shed their weight,
But went their separate way.
The birds that fly up in the sky,
And creatures that crawl, down on the sly,
Don’t refuse to wake and roam about;
As such is an infliction of human doubt–
An infliction the other creatures flout.
There is no point, in wondering why,
Just keep on living until you die.
The reason for life, is life itself;
Your Priest, and your Healer