Then, after the ending was this;
perpetual continuing in spite of it.
Hallucinations manufactured by reality
in the disturbing quiet of it, until,
first little river that comes around
washes me along with it where it is headed,
wishing me strong enough to endure its wandering.
Before long it and I will be gone, evaporated.
Me, the classic sucker for a pretty face,
conquistador of forgotten charisma,
until that got to be so out of place, me;
deranged as only a fool can be.
Sifting too long through alleged evidence
has marked me as an inventor with fraudulent patent,
warrior with a fraudulent sword
pulling away layers of thin skin.
Getting not close enough to where cognitive energy is stored.
Yet, I stood in a spot where mind\'s eye was filled,
where the tangled felled trees accused me of being simple.
So, still, if I am to be left with only one skill;
let it be to be awed.