Of eight and ten years of Life lived, they seem but an age, grey and far-reaching; how shall it seem as such that of a lifetime lived?
To fully bear the world upon thy crown, to see all that there is to be born upon thy sight, and to feel all the passions or sorrows?
Whether life lived, for good or for ill, how can shall such endless age be immortal?
Such a life already lived 'tis naught but a grain of sand, infinitesimal and meaningless in its fruition; more so in the coming sands of time.
Truly to live as an Immortal bears a bitter cup, but to live and fade into obscurity, shrouded and squandered this life, bears the most bitter cup of all.