Near Journey's End

And so I've come, near Journey's End. Casting my words unto the air. But only the empty wind speaks back. Never once told that life was fair.

No names upon my lips. None but fancy titles, ideals of script. Colorful ideals as bait. Trickery, enticement to Quest long dead fork in the road to take.

Better not to struggle. Much like quicksand this destiny. No soul hears the struggling on this trail. For it is death on the undertaking. Only with a longer walk.

Upon the speaking of these words Crow. No names, no Deeds, none but wind blow. Near journey's end who shall witness this passing, go?

Life found to be cheap only ideas with value. So many dead at their feet. So many facts ignored to astound you.

No names on lips. Just words no longer attached to the values that formed them. Born back to the wind, away from the ears that scorned them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

For spoken ver click here.