I wandered beyond


    the dawnward spires of destiny


    I walked to the edge of night,


    seeking some older place than the


    horizon''s edge,


    some dreamland


    of prime and central sorceries,


    drawn by birdsong


    and the howling of wolves.


    The earth whispers its secrets


    in the tongues of beasts,


    leading me to some new fate,


    ordained by other hands


    than the luminous ones


    that shaped my purpose.


    Down now some new and secret path


    beyond the senses'' farthest wall,


    where spring and sunset conjure


    a path eternal,


    in lands untouched by the Shadow.


    I see them in my dreams,


    the ones who tried to shape the world,


    and the hues that cloaked their purpose.


    Greycloak, my friend, my brother,


    Kinder and wiser than all.


    Whitecloak, my master,


    skilled and refined,


    who seeks to control the world.


    I wander now, with the birds and the beasts,


    treading the paths hidden


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.upon the earth to the ether


    in dimensions nemoral,


    seeking, ever-seeking


    wonders and dreams and worlds ulterior.


    In this interim of days,


    clad in the hue of tree and soil,


    I wander the fantastic and mooted ways


    where walk the beasts of legend.


    At night,


    I see some ancient ghost


    of a bygone light,


    Some undeparting presence,


    gracious and majestic,


    that whispers to me my purpose:


    I am a dreamer of the unknowable,


    I am a servant of the Secret Fire...


    For us the grief, for us the mystery


    not given wholly unto dream and dust:


    immortal life, yet a mutable purpose.


    Upon these shadowed shores,


    at the edge of the known world,


    I see the waves,


    the push and pull of the moon


    upon the slumberous seas,


    where the fates govern


    the tides of time and truth.


    Beyond that sea lies home,


    a dream beyond memory,


    a name spoken in tongues,


    evoking echoes


    of forgotten lullabies.


    One day, I may return,


    But not until the world ends,


    When all that is green and good


    has faded away.


    For me, there is


    no promised land


    but this.