I lie there somewhere along the way…
Beneath the white pale clouded sky.
If I truly was there… If I truly be there…
My shadow would not matter,
My presence would not falter.
Oh but you shall see.
I wait still.
Unmoved. Stoic.
The stains of time move down on me.
They do so through paper,
Through pen and ink not bought with gold.
Blood.
White.
Missing the crimson taint.
Flowing down as rain down drain.
It has been now accepted.
I shall remain here.
Keeping the watch I was destined to guard.
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