They say there is a stone that tethers the heart.

A stone that calms the mind, even in the most horrendous of storms.

A serenity stone.

We have spent centuries searching for this stone.

We have written letters of hope, expecting word on its whereabouts.

We have chased after those who appeared to be the stone, but they only proved to be jagged daggers of glass, white-hot and coated in venom.

They break at the slightest touch.

Yet they say there is a stone, one that is unshakeable, immovable.

A serenity stone.

We are in dire need of this stone, but with each passing day, we believe that these tales are mere fantasy.

Where we believe there to be hope, we find only torment.

Where we believe there to be solace, we find only cold abandonment.

As time marches forth, we are surrounded by those who have found their stone, and our mind grows darker, and hope withers away.

They say there is a stone, one that will not abandon you.

A serenity stone.

But we cannot find her, and we are slipping into madness.