Sometimes, fate plays a cruel joke. Like the legends of the past, what one lech for, always seems to be around the corner, but never, within my grasp.
Kind counsel abound, the fog of war twirls round the mind, stumbling steps I take. Yet again. And again.
The sounds of the ship horn blast through the air, and I will, sink again to the cold depths, akin to the destiny of the cursed maiden, fair Titanic.
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