There, frost-bitten, rose the brume.
I listened close, I heard the call-
And struck a spark against the gloom-
And ran before nightfall.

I listened close, I heard the call
To go and lose myself.
I ran before nightfall,
Tearing my mind from the bookshelf.

To go! To lose myself!
Surely that was what was necessary:
To tear my mind from the bookshelf,
But for my journal and hymnary.

Surely that was what was necessary,
When, frost-bitten, rose the brume
(But for my journal and hymnary).
I struck a spark against the gloom.

Penned by my hand on Falsday, the 21st of Sapiarch, in the year 16 AC.