Clock of the talk

Previously

…In that suffocating blackness, I heard it again. A faint, ethereal melody, carried on the wind from some distant, unseen shore. It was Blue Lew's lost tune, a whisper of what once was, a ghost of a forgotten song. And as I listened, a single tear traced a path down my weathered cheek, a silent testament to the profound, inescapable sorrow that had found its final resting place within the sage's cage of rage. The stage was dark, the audience gone, and I was left with only the echo of a melody, and the chilling embrace of my own self-made prison.