In the midst of the fields overgrown, where we once sang jubilant before the absent spirits… I sit alone and turn my gaze inward. Our journeys lead us all away from the light, lost in the wicked ways of the old kind. But to where have we arrived now? Where I once sought comfort, now I find mockery that greets me. From shadowed minds and hands, we have built these grand effigies that stand for nothing. With our lostness now, so painfully apparent. What lay beyond, the margins of this life is no closer… I weave twisted creations as I am compelled, with the knowledge that they do nothing to justify this presence. Yet here I sit, another one of them, transient, redundant. An unwise mind confronted with dreadful revelations. My naivete buried in scales, reptilian. Praying without belief for the storms. At once we reflect the life of this time, of this plane, of fiery birth and the withering ends. My whole self, a reflection - of the roads winding through the best of me, through the worst of you. Better to be well-hid, to be consumed by the pursuits of tomorrow and yesterday, than cast into the dunes of the present! Concealed, distracted, forever. We are adrift, forever!