Llinyn Arian

Why do we scatter what we once held dear?
For better, or for worse… We are strung by our deeds.
From heartstring to heartstring, the world ever spins…
Until crimson yarn has bound us within.

We, the young weavers of fate, tangle ourselves upon freewill.
A gift that made us as them, but a curse that has seen us fall to fear.
Into the depths of never ending dreams of our own making…
Falling ever downward, until! What is grasped…?

Solitary you stand, Silver Strand! You indeed outshine any thread spun…
As the jubilant lark vaults here to there, we tread ever so softly upon truth…
Lest it be within the echoes of our own footsteps that we foolishly follow…
All fighting phantoms of own shadow cast.

Tred on! Tred on!
Aught is to be found!
Yes! It is there…
…Go. See.

© Sayer Teller

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We all have our roles to play. Some may be given, but all are chosen. Wander with the Fool across the many worlds to reveal your greatest of destinies…
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