Through worlds and through space we searched but in vain
For pieces we lost in ages since past;
After he damned us to this form- our chain-
The blow was struck, but its damage won't last.
We- no not we, it is I who must look
To regain control of the broken three:
Siblings whose very foundation he shook
Will be raised up again out of the scree
Of our ruined glory to once more fly
In the face of the one who dared insult
The way things once were through trickery sly.
Ravage unworthy with Fear, Want, and Cult!
But I am not whole; a vessel I'll need-
One fertile mind in which to plant my seed.