I, too, have journeyed to green and envious,
Unknown rocks. In cloaks, boots, and with daggers,
So that funerals rung out the sound
Of those defeated, rumored armies.
Far off in dusk we must in a lonesome past…
But where have you gone? Wherefore you go?
Will you drop out? Or stick in thick
Winter’s gloom? I fail, I know;
To prove all this to you. Your ignorance
Is power, my knowledge meant nothing to you.
I loved this, a stunning but sombre ode to things gone by.
Thank-you, Sommer. 🙂
Commenting to let you know I’ve read it, but I can’t find a door knob
It is just as well that you can’t find a door knob, because a door knob is not in it.