This sonnet contains minor spoilers for the Pathfinder Society Special Ruins of Bonekeep—Level Two: Maze to the Mind Slave. If you don’t plan to play it, read on:

To face this lethal place, we took up arms;
Descended ancient steps in duty's name;
Cleared evil's lairs — but fell to their false charms
And duty done, went on in quest of fame.

Aflush with pride, we passed a closing gate,
And on retreat, we saw the way was barred.
Knowing our fading strength, we chose our fate,
And hoped that we could win a fight grown hard.

Approaching death, one final spell we cast:
A storm of flame that would consume our foes
And fade — we thought. Instead the flame grew vast.
From that thrown spark, our smoky death arose.

By grace we live again, and thus can learn:
The lives we boldly risk might not return.