*polgara runs over to her corrner again, she curls up with the thort of Shade in her mind and she slowly falls back to sleep*
What eternal hand of eye, what limitless imagination, could concieve the pangs of immortal life? An eternity of broken dreams. A place where once I died. what divine-concieved design, could match a mortal life? A wry and rapt mortality. A life played out in sounds, of weeping, screaming sighs. Is this when the night comes down? The Shadow in us all, that ebbs and flows with ignorance...