Concerning Universe, abroad, Darth Vader the first

These worlds, combined, could partition your aisles into mine for fourteen lives, longer into eternities, and that we could harken our

own marks, were that you were mild were they, lost, and alleyways to part of all our partitions, could belay my own sentiments agaiynst theirs..

Who you are to my son, could hate what we pray for, and changes to theirs in hope, could bring my own lives, to park for theirs. And lies, could become you, but wherever you are, theirs was challenge, and my own lives could bring these hopes to our Own devices, anew...

Hellion that you are, and I pray for the stars, but you say Galaxy, and I say, aul. The last remark for all hatreds of the sith could be hell to us, and may be, these livings could change your own into agonies, for this one last hope in carnage, but if you know, carnage was either for torture, or for extermination, could you breathe whether he was sith, or jedi.

These war stars, theirs in partition for braves, that we have these blades, to us, change you? Some, know who I am, and others could scraem, at what they are, but he will kill us all, is the worst you could say of Darth, Vader, and that of hatreds, or agonies alive, could you know they would shed the lightblade, and cut apart your infant in front of you, with a knife. Did you believe, i could kill you mercifully, that you exist, in this, Force, we know and breathe in, still? Did you believe that my own channel, for weaponry, can send your son away, to escape you, into exiles of thought you think or there you do not see this beyond and so I send you there, for they, move, behind me, and a starclone, may don the knife, he has many, or surely that his teeth shet to canibalism, when he's not otherwise equipped, could you know he thinks, there was more, to what he could do, only when your screams, so sounded, to tell the child it is, agony, for you, so that he would not be deleted, those screams, were song, and so power, and he thinks causing it in you, was all his power for creation, could ever be epitomized, to be.

I've heard your own challenges and I know, your sordid tales, but of them, you know not why a hero would wear a mask? I ventuer to gain, I am always, recolonized for this authority, and that they could doppelgang me, are they marked, and tracked, and exterminated, with ease. None wearing mine own uniform, could think he could become, the real, Darth Vader, but that my son already, is so.

That hideous marks, for authority, pledge them to the subterfuge, could you know I've killed the infant not, but many worlds do I know, for the taking, of a child, too, and he will not remember you but you may find him again.

What Are you? If your mind gave you a moment, to think memory was all you had to love by, then you merely controlled child, and never once, loved him. You know of where these aisles are, and if it pains you, truly, pains you, to think he doesn't remember, when you took care of him as a baby, after you are reunited, then you thought to swaddle not, but surely, you bathed, and pampered, and thought this was care, but babie play, and you never have. You managed, a child, and this was torture to theirs he may remember you in pains, later on, and kill you, for what you thought you could bring to all children, by theirs to declare that they are careless, of what is, and that children forget that it does not matter, to them, so they do.

When song is sung it will not escape him. He breathes in it and time is music to ours, in aspect for to understand but i am, Jedi, and you mark, nothing of darkness evil, when the shadows hid your young, but mark, that was always what I knew, of the dark side, of the Force. This mask is my darkness, the black, a lure, for that I do bare a yellow lighted blade and they know these marks, for mine. This weapon is feared, but you know nothing, of what I am, for surely in these era have you imagined my son, and that is not what I am. I was called Sith.

He is called, Darth Vader. What you know, of legacy, could we bring to carnage in theirs, or that lacking Force, is he dinosaur, and so brave, and that when pain, sets in, he thrashes like the elite raptor, of charge, and I made him so. Mine own scraems, in agony, black your hearts to these or do you reel, and yes of me, but they to know the shout was a thousand screams I see more on these lights, and blast apart what they are, for what we've had, in partitions aware, of mine.

I wear no mask. When my son hidden, was he, among them, he justly did. That you could know I could heal, scar, and they can grow, skin, could you know he fears orange lava never at all, but would douse it, think you, or drench, that it could be black or grayrock stone, and this was for what hell is to us and that it will never be, but something magma, could run off, again. The water, did not vaporize, it moulded, but that these heats on into where you are, could lie of obsidian, for then that crystal could challenge you, and my brother does carry an obsidian blade, of his own mark, when choosing of what theirs, could still must be.