The falling stars sing back to me in the voice of one I have lost
Too long vanished to remember more than a shadowed face and touch
Looking back over the road brings me only fatigue
I the lonely traveler weave tapestry between my fingers
If I catch them, will the stars become diamonds for me?
How many masks might I create from a single ball of twine?
The way before me has never been clearer
The voice of one I have lost echoes in the shadows
Twilight stretches lingering arms above the horizon
The miles beyond my feet cannot be longer still
Than the length of road I have already walked today
In dreams I find you
In sleep I hold you
Forgetfulness never comes
Your song shall not be silent
- A poem taken from Red River 'Secession', Chapter 34.