Budging the sluggard ripples of the Somme,
A barge round old Cérisy slowly slewed.
Softly her engines down the current *******,
And chuckled softly with contented hum,
Till fairy tinklings struck their croonings dumb.
The waters rumpling at the stern subdued;
The lock-gate took her bulging amplitude;
Gently from out the gurgling lock she swum.

One reading by that calm bank shaded eyes
To watch her lessening westward quietly.
Then, as she neared the bend, her funnel screamed.
And that long lamentation made him wise
How unto Avalon, in agony,
Kings passed in the dark barge, which Merlin dreamed.

I was at a place where sadness became comfort. Sadness became the cozy home I never had. A place where I belong - a home that welcomed and accepted me. It was where I came back to at the end of the day. It was the only thing that waited for me and the only thing that wanted me. These days whenever I'm near the edge - I can hear them calling me. Malevolent croonings telling me to come back home.