What a vision of darkness, creeps in with desperate sharpness, lecherous grafting of knowledge to my young mortal subconscious. 
Words writ by breath of the ancients, wiser than even the pagans, or the wizened old men with wands and white beards that once were ensconced in my pages.

Obfuscated by doom, and laden with arduous tasks are the pathways laid out for the lot of us. 
Mages and witches and princes and maids, pages with inches of space for mistakes.

I am the beast, I am the light, I am the blighted being cursed with sight 
I am the god who created a world, I am leviathan, the girl

I can do it on my own, but you’re a hero after all, and we may think our sacrifice is just but [bad word] right before the fall. 
The cascade of rain on my needles, a hand grasping tight to the bottle, of a woman with untapped potential, the ennui of too late and too little.

Our failures have made, a bridge for success, if our game is half played, then who’s played the rest of it? 
Heroes we were in a universe doomed, soldiers in battles best left un-exhumed.

I am the beast, I am the light, I am the blighted being cursed with sight 
I am the god who created a world, I am leviathan, the girl. And-

I can do it on my own 
we can do it on our own 
Aut viam inveniam aut faciam (x2)

I am Leviathan, the girl…