Epimetheus

Oh you poor, poor thing. How could've they ever known? How could they realize what you were going through? Your heart like the souls your mother took kept behind a closed gate.. That fire is burning within your soul, oh-oh, tears drying up like ashes. It's not like you can do anything. Oh poor, poor Epime.. There were nobody there to help you. Nobody there to hear your cries. Nobody there to care. Destined to follow in your mother's footsteps? It was expected of you to be just like her. Pathetic little you, So much for sacrificing other dragons.. Ha! you couldn't kill a measly mouse if you tried. Oh-oh how disappointed in yourself you must feel.. Knowing your mother now thinks of you nothing more than a mistake. Such saddening, she were truly excited about you. Excited that you were special.. Yet you're nothing close to that. You're nothing like your mother.

Maybe that's a good thing?

..

Right?

...

What's wrong with me??

....

WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?

Ha!- Ha!- Ha!

Epimetheus spends her days and nights locked away in the wretched place they call a prison. Not hardly. More like a deathbed. The awful rusted metal floors.. And those hard-as-a-rock beds. Ha! Epime hasn't seen a glimpse of daylight since she's stepped foot into the prison.