'Time does not bring relief; you all have lied  

Who told me time would ease me of my pain!

I miss her in the weeping of the rain;  

I want her at the shrinking of the tide;

The old snows melt from every mountain-side,  

And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane;  

But last year’s bitter loving must remain

Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.  

There are a hundred places where I fear  

To go,—so with her memory they brim.  

And entering with relief some quiet place  

Where never fell her foot or shone her face  

I say, “There is no memory of her here!”  

And so stand stricken, so remembering her.

Ahearn Mahariel || Farren Surana || Anson Brosca || Cam'helin || Irrdan || Witcher Abel || Rome Ryder