Stranded under a blanket of stars,
Strangers barging past with no smile or frown.
Lost,
lost in a world where the ruthless survive.
Oh why have the gods stranded a weak straggler?
Divine they are,
Yet they cannot see the ones worth caring for beneath thier feet.
Walking,
Walking night and day,
Weary feet pad slowely on,
Untill I find my cause,
Untill i find my cause.


Those who have a place in this world, who know where thier lives are
taking them. Spare a thought for the people, old and new, who do not
know where thier live take them, who journey on alone.
Alone.

Penned by my hand on the 23rd of Miraman, in the year 348 AF.