I declared that tales would end
no anticipation nothing round the bend
Tried to make it work for a month or so
Man in a ship said it just won't sail you know
How long since I touched my peaceful ocean
How long despite the sense of constant motion
I tell you God it's ten long years
the stuff of stark though still lesser fears
I tried your histories I tried your allegories
There's nothing left for it
but to return to the sea of stories
There's no such thing as bad luck
only suffering and resolve
only walking in the moment
there is nothing you can solve
and the world does not need saving
and it has no destination
and there is no difference between
vacation or incarceration
or anyway that is the line
of the strange bird that quarries
the deep unfathomed ocean caves
far under the sea of stories
what
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