“Your only existence shall be that which I weave for you out of sorrow and woe.”
The followers of Crota swing Hammers,
Sing death-songs:
Fatal.
Final.
Absolute.
Ir Halak and Ir Anûk laugh at Crota.
Finality is a child's plaything,
Fit for one such as Crota,
They say.
No Hammer for the Unraveler and the Weaver,
But a Spindle, wound with woe.
For their foes,
No end of suffering.