let this not end, I thought to myself as the children yawned and the conversation died and I thought of the moon shining only because of reflected sunlight otherwise it is a dark, lifeless place Fled out into the darkness and the mist of the ocean air and the songs and the memories and the years gone by cacophonous the voice my hopeless madness the vomitus of my mind
And I remembered that I had scoured the cold, sullen, snow-filled Northern Wastes and it was not there and tracked the great burning, wind-scoured Western Deserts and I could not find it and trod up and down the grimed and mired streets of that vast City upon the Two Rivers in the East and still it eluded me
So I am here again in this Southland by the mesmerizing Sea as it was in the beginning tying a knot in the silver thread that runs through everything and its seeming endlessness sometimes feels like a curse and like a man on the wrong ship or the wrong train I watch the destiny that was not meant to be glide out to the sunset leaving me with only what might-have-beens
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