Ethir Anduin Awareness Of Frailty Of Being

The sons stood by the wall, flashing their feet shod in spurs
They rejoiced and said
Promulgate to us dear father
What is this thing called Frother
The father, flashing his eyes, replied
Do not confuse, my sons
The day of the end and the knight of spring
Blue, terrible and grizzled is Frother
I am your angel I am your father
I know its cruelty,
My death is close at hand
Bald spots gape on my head,
Empty patches I am bored
And should my life drag on,
Neither a falcon nor a tuft of hair
Will remain anywhere
This means death is at handThis means hello boredom
The sons twinkled their bells and then rattled their tongues
But that wasnt our question,
Our thoughts gestate like mansions
Wont you tell us dear father
What is this thing called Frother
And the father exclaimed, The prologue!
In the prologue what matters is God
Go to sleep, sons
here are dreams watch some