Karbazîr,
Were my beliefs wrong? My credence forbidden? It was but a concept of affection.
The songs I sung soothed the surrounding angst.
My ignorance to the Master was an act of fools.
I miss thee. Thy smile, and soft soothing.
How I remorse the defection of myself that day.
Now thou art gone. Thou art gone and it is written upon my black grave!
Banish all my faults!
Over the shores of Umbar, flew a wind most unsettling hot.
The sun shone burning those days, and its heat would not subdue.
Fifty-seven lashes were the offspring of the whip’s rage. I counted.
The sight was abhorrent. The wounds seared and bloated. An infection.
Three nights, thou had left.
Karbazîr,
Lost is the way to redemption. I dare not ask for forgiveness.
Within thy tomb of reminiscence resides my heart, I cannot forsake,
It is forever thine. And I am contrite for the poor being that is myself.
