"The city of Arkane,

  Was aptly named,

  For it contained,

  All manner of strange thing,

  From cryptid to twisted,

  Known and unknown,

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  Hidden within,

  The facade presented,

  Escape reality,

  And bend the mind,

  To seek the truth,

  You soon learn the lesson,

  That ignorance is bliss,

  And all is lies."

  The eerie poem lay inscribed upon an unmarked gravestone as the morning sun bore down upon it. Passerbies bringing flowers to the surrounding graves. One such person stood out among the rest her yellow floral dress and sun hat juxtaposed to the somber mourning of late.

  Before her sat a child wearing a red flannel with jeans. Her arms around him in loving embrace as tears streamed down his face. A wreath of flowers set on the grave in front of them, it reads; "here lies Janice mayvle single mother of one"