In days when wonders
wander toward the precipice
failing to be
even with the fervor
of a distant forgotten dream
what pirates, majestic
stood chanting, wondrously
by the quiet crackling
of a cold winter's fire

When motions toward resolution
seem solemn in their disgrace
who else is it to seek
but in the bitter end
all that was to become
an end again

Where from there then
and to what day
do the waters part

Is it even above the mind's eye
to dream
hastily in passing
as the mountains stand resolute
dancing in reverie
at the sight of a hand
brushing winds heartily
through motionless trees

In the end
it was what began then
and when it sang
those that came
led then believed
and as it was
so now shall they see
for ne'er again
in the end
will it stand there
then fail
to seek toward the bitterness
and all else
destined, charged, and condemned
to falter then end