Monday, May 15, 2006

Visions.

The wind at my back I stand on the shore.  I look longingly into the sea, has my loved come home.  Alas the mast is merely a trader ship coming into port.  How many times had this exact vessel, now clearly the Tasmaran been mistaken for the one.

The messages from afar, that she sends, all to clear of her uneasiness with the waters.  The journey almost unbearable.  She has missed her sailing twice before.  And unfortunately I think there will be no more.  The horizon is clear and has been for some days.  I fear she has forgotten me.  On this island I call my home.  She will once again see beauty in a foreign land and I will know only suffering.

Bring forth the winds and let her hear my pleas.  Come back to me my fear come back.



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