eversince I was a kid I only had one dream in life, immortality.

but as I grew up I had learned that this world isn't as beautiful as it was before...

people change, nature withers and the only thing certain is death.

I grew to hate the world, and I started knowing the melancholy of being an immortal.

I studied different ways of being an immortal, each and every possible ways.

even though I know the consequences, I still continue.

until I found writing, and learned the art of phylactery.

now I've known a way to immortality without having to be left behind in this cruel world...

my art will provide my horcrux, an object that will keep me alive

an object that will let people know who I am,

an object that will let them know the poet of melancholy...