To my dear…

What is a sailor with no wind to stream through his hair?

My ship, she lays still. Motionless. Lifeless. Purposeless.

Do you hear her long, low creeks of anguish? Such groans are much too hallow to be the sound of the sea. Or maybe that is just the sound of my heart. Whispers to nobody. Sitting alone upon the open water.

Even Eluna’s light weeps. Her light brings back an old friend that knows me oh too well. That old friend that follows me everywhere, mimicking my every move. And yet this old friend stands still, staring back at me, holding me in his cold embrace, even when I never asked to lay in his arms.

Forgive me, Eluna. I know you’re trying your hardest to light my way. You’re as beautiful as ever. Full. Vibrant.

Where have all the winds gone? Where is all of the sweet song? These old locks of hair have never felt so heavy hanging beside my face. They pull me down, closer into the cold that I do not welcome beside me.

Where is the music that I used to love? Even the waters do not sing. How can they? We all lay still out here. Alone.

There the old creeks go again. The somber melody of my poor ship. Or was that not my ship? Who knows? Who actually knows?

As I enjoy the warmth of Eluna’s light, I ask that you grace me, my darling. Your old knight is lost, once again. Just a little ounce of strength will do. Anything, really. Bless me what you can. The Angels above have seem to have forgotten me. I hope that you haven’t, my darling. It’s okay if you have. Centuries have passed. So I understand. I understand.

Enough of this. My ink is already tired of this taste.

Love from yours truly

-Daniel Roy