Saturday, August 9, 2014

20440809.0628

For the Prince of Fantasists
The road goes ever on and on
But for me
For now
The road goes not

A trip is done
And home has welcomed me again
I am back in the place where I belong
Ready again for my mossy cover

It is a soft and comforting blanket
Cushioning my hardness
Easing my rest
Although I know it eats away at me
My staying put leading to my doom

Yet the stones that roll
Dash themselves against others
Lose their edges
End up smooth and less than they were
Faster and with more violence

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