I have said all I had to say
And have done all I had to do
All that remains are nights and days
That all are one shade and hue
Each strike of my pencil on paper
Is an etch on the skin of my time
Each addition of salt or of pepper
Is a sigh to the mountains unclimbed
I have poured all my blood into rivers
And have drank from the death of all things
All that cometh has now been delivered
That all things should be found within
Each thing that I do now henceforth
Is a ripple still fading away
Each word that I send south or north
Is a step that has sunk into clay
Feb 17
Feb 17, 2026 at 8:53 AM UTC
I have said all I had to say
And have done all I had to do
All that remains are nights and days
That all are one shade and hue
Each strike of my pencil on paper
Is an etch on the skin of my time
Each addition of salt or of pepper
Is a sigh to the mountains unclimbed
I have poured all my blood into rivers
And have drank from the death of all things
All that cometh has now been delivered
That all things should be found within
Each thing that I do now henceforth
Is a ripple still fading away
Each word that I send south or north
Is a step that has sunk into clay
Thanks for reading!
