It’s wahem, it’s lure, that elusive, can’t have, longing, that drives us, that binds us. We must bring it back to life, even in death, it lives on, somewhere, in some form, wanting to come back to us. Then again, the hunt begins. Do we bring it back, or leave him their like a curse, a warning, for people who get lured by its wahem. It wants to be born again.