What have I been forgiven for? Where have I gone wrong so many times before? Am I cursed for my slaughtering? Did they not deserve it, the pain, bathing in death across miles of faces? I’ve sat back taking in as much as I could stand. It changed me seeing life collapse unto itself. I’ve handed possibilities to individuals only to see it thrown asunder. I’ve laid purified melodies spilled against stilled waters blocked by intended purpose. These creatures only see one thing in life… sadly, life is not their priority.

Survival maybe, but not life. Place any creature into death’s grasp and they’ll be left controlled by instinct. There is nothing gallant in that. Controlling nations was easy with fear. Love allowed them a chance to overthrow “prisons”. It gave them bravery, doubt of punishment. It pained me slightly watching this world be destroyed the first time. Though, it got progressively easier during my second reboot of life. It was during my time among these mortals I began to wonder why Torin’s children wished to save it.

Three times I stood over my people looking into a world of chaos. My first two experiences left me puzzled and simply resolute in my actions. Maybe I have found ease in starting it over despite my sadness to see my work being totaled. It had to be done, it was left without choice. Now I still wonder, stuck in this mortal’s body what I have come here to understand. Why did I agree to be imprisoned? Am I learning humility? Am I learning there is no need to change what I know people are not capable of?

Let my truth be understood through their actions. If I allow it, I can let them continue till it is their own undoing. Maybe I’ll stand my ground. Sit back and take it all in. Embrace what is inevitable to their cause. In my time passing uncountable years I might have found reason to forgive them, to atone for my own sins of brash decisions. Give in to its sway… Give in to its purpose… give in to what I can’t control. Every change has lead to an exact result. Ever changing variables melting molted paints down dry canvases will always end in a masterpiece of perception… It always ends, even within new beginnings…

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