"The world is a hollow, a canyon of grey, Where the light of the morning is stolen away. We build our cathedrals from dust and from bone, To prove that a heart can survive on its own. There is no return from the bridges we burn, Just the cold, heavy lessons we're forced to discern. For silence is louder than any lost song, In the dark of the places where we don't belong." — Elara "Lark" Thorne