The stars, they hold him
Closer than I ever will be able
The stars, my ancestors,
Took him on a whim

The mandolin that plays no more
Was hers that made me smile
Now hears nothing but the silence
From a heart sad and torn

Laughter and silliness combined
Was his that youth polished and glowed in
His mother's heart melted
With a son's love, and a columbine

Stubborness and pride
Glowing eyes of lamiran love
Her magicks strongest in the aqui
Sassiest daughter mine

Bonded as closely as I did with spirits of the wild
Never proud, flightly or mischevious...too horribly
Content to be a fierce hunter in the forests and below the waves
Daughter meek, but never mild

for Juik, Piplar, Sionell, Skylar and Lee.

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Letum, in the year 491 AD.