The realm is shifting, since the start,
Never still, ever unravelling apart.
To the unaware, the road is smooth,
But bumps arise, revealing truth's venomous tooth.
The path is twisting, the path spread,
Always false paths, ever an illusion of choice ahead.
Ever downwards, it spirals deep,
The realm is twisting, where Corruption seeps.


Penned by my hand on Kinsday, the 2nd of Lexadian, in the year 14 AC.