Amidst the tumult, havens beckon, unbeknownst to those, Unwilling to pursue, though willing to prevent those willed to pursue, Elevation, shall the path of those seeking be carved by virtue; Shall their resolve enlight the way towards the one purpose. For doubt shall be gnawing at them always, For corruption shall lurk on their journey; Unwanted companions following their footsteps, Waiting in silence to lead them astray. To lead them back from whence they came fleeing, Vile kingdom guarded by towers of emptiness; Where the absurd feeds mouths ever so gaping, And forlorn hopes are crushed under duress. Through barren fields of old they shall walk, Realms of nether, roaring winds shall unveil; Places where nightmares reign and shadows stalk, Their senses dimmed, rooted fears shall prevail. Elected shall be the ones who do not falter, Facing the trials and tribulations of truth; Elected shall be the ones sowing seeds of ruth, Reaping knowledge instead of fruits most bitter. There they stood, gazing into the maw of fog, Within seconds they felt compelled and smitten. As they leapt forward to meet their fate's prologue, In their minds resonated the words of the forgotten. All that is cold does not frost, Not all those who wander are lost; The will that is strong does not wither, True striders are not afraid to meander. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, A light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be ruins that were forsaken, The seekers again they shall bring.

In a quagmire of confusion, they progressed, slow but unwavering, Countless blades of hail stabbing flesh, tearing thoughts into oblivion, Ruthless winds meaning to coalesce them in the furious mass swirling, The sentient depths fighting, punishing their mere presence like an infection. Imperceptible forms, unsettling sounds, the fog enshrouds. Within the maw, void of shadow and smoke, the fog overclouds. The smoke engulfed, filling them with manifold reminiscences. The shadows swallowed, and with their souls created hidden essences. Words of the forgotten as their guide, flame of the will as their pride, Their bodies ever withstanding, fueled by grace granted to few proven. In a halo of clarity, a face of stone, from tangible and unreal woven; In its mouth, a last shelter from the world before embracing the other side. This is the water and this is the well. Drink full and descend. The fog is the dark of the eyes and white beyond.

Remnants of an existence bereft of meaning.