As youthful ignorance is consumed in our wake The winds pounding against us gather strength Darkness seems to descend And many a frightened man feels his spirit desert him As it dawns on man that his hope is unfounded That his future is a great darkness Fate calls his name; for he controls not his own prosperity or his own misery The wind whispers unto me great stories of tragedy The horizon becomes an enigma Behold mist-laden landscapes The journey ahead may be a perilous one But there is no turning back
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