Hark! The angels! For time is flying like a leaf flying in the vicious winds. Thou shall not be worried about me, for I have arrived safely till now, in the Hrothgar's Hall- the hall of death and mourn. Beautiful and arrogant as it is, yet Hrothgar's hall is desolated and the whole hall, seem to have been swept by lonesome atmospheres. The vines are crawling up the poles of the hall, giving it an antique feeling. Though I have no time to cogitate about this beautifully desolate hall, I am doing this for thy own good.

I am sent to this world to promote virtues and reprove of vice. I have come to this hall of death with aspiration and I shall fulfill my words. Hrothgar, the King of the Danes is old and weary now and I shall protect him and his...