Saturday, October 9, 2010


The yellow stones in lantern light distract my train of sight. Another voice, another room, my mother's face, my father's scent, the air is sick at night. I walk the halls, a clouded step, my baggage hesitant. Bear with me please, show me your voice and never reprimand.
My lady sees imprisonment, where I see only light.
My lord, he cannot feel but loss, yet we found it right.

Good night.

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