Along the coast they rode, on stony shoals
Their errant hooves blazed trails until the dawn
When clouds were pink and pale in sky asleep.
The crashing waves, eternal thunder, pulsed
And danced their cycles, tongueless, to the moon.
A salt was on the wind. Sir Kay in thought
At last in weak tones spoke "See thee the sea?
See thee its cold embrace? I see the crests
All vanishing behind the foggy veil.
What lies beyond these shores through which we steal?
Do further lands upon the ocean dwell,
Or else our island all alone? In sleep
I wander out upon the spray and crash:
The coldness of her glass upon my soles,
The blindness in the belly of the mist.
Is there an island like our own, out there,
Or is the world divided like the spans
A human knows in life? That is to say
We live as men upon the lands, then die,
And drift beneath dramatic waves in death?
The clouds of hell and heaven hanging low
Some hidden life obscures perhaps, some gem,
Yet fancy is a ghost that plagues the young;
Its velvet lips no longer grace my cheek;
No kiss could drain the pallor of the mists.
That shapeless country swallows all I know,
For there is naught beyond this island's shore
Except the sea, the stars, and wispy veil."
And on they rode in silence through the foam
'Til Gwalchmai in reply did purse his lips
And rouse from them a birdsong of the night
That on their minds in sweetness broke with tide.
His song did soar above the ocean dirge
And lifted too their hearts upon the spray
As long as he did play. The jagged rocks
And dessicated seaweed rags, all rough,
Were scattered on the sands of lonely beach.
The song that soared brought back their hearts to them
And grey-cloaked Gwalchmai said "The seas are rough
And hard to see beyond because of mist.
These shores are strange, the ocean stranger still,
For who can know the form of all unknown?
We see our lives in greater focus, for,
By sooth, we live them thoroughly, or try.
Yet oceans hold a life as sure as we,
And far from us suspend a further shore
Where blossoms tender as our own are grown,
Yet stranger in their traits, and dissonant.
And we may know these blooms, these fish, and yet
The bounds of knowledge never can be crossed --
And pieces of a thing, try as they might,
Can not their sum behold with certainty.
The life we live a journey through the dark,
And only when we live no more can lights
Dispel the shade revealing hidden truth."
The moon was dragged beneath the hungry mist
And certain stars extinguished glowing souls
Until the night was siphoned from the sky
And dawn, in gloom and seagull cries, was born.
"We are to face the beast but soon," said Kay.
Some fright is in my bones and makes me think
On all the mysteries beyond the shroud,
On all the stars with secret tales to tell.
Perhaps I'll meet them as I journey by,
If fearsome foe is lucky with a tusk.
My bones will stay behind, I'm sure. Will I
Remain? Or shall I sail that milky road?
I wish a proper burial beneath...
Or should you burn what's left? I wish I knew.
The future drenched in mist alike; I'm blind."
"As all are blind who try to see ahead:
So many streams that weave within this world
Not one of us can grasp them tight enough
To read from them the things not yet to pass.
This plan we've made, the best we could design,
Yet still we must adapt to keep our lives.
My soul afraid as well -- my blood grows thick!
I like the storm of combat less than you,
Preferring turn-of-chance, or subtlety.
Yet far too great a beast Twrch Trwyth is,
We cannot win with stealthiness alone.
I fear I've brought a doom, I'm sorry Kay,
My nervous hexes make me wonder sore
If we should not have drunk from holy Well.
In anguish to redeem my past I hope
I have not slain us both in honor's name.
No song will help me now. I wander, borne
Upon the coastal gusts, a common gull.
I wish, I wish, I wish, yet am the wind.
No song of birds shall ever help me now:
To be a man means being lost at sea.
Yet even as the waves turn cloak and crash
They bring a touch of chaos as they break
And sometimes break for good, instead of ill.
To truly harmonize with swollen seas
The crest of waves that pass us we must ride
And with our circumstances roll our path.
True plans, those set in stone, can never work
For they ignore the iron whims of fate.
Some good shall come, I swear, or else some ill.
To say this thing puts weakness in my bones,
Yet we must forge ahead and worry not
For things shall come to pass for good or ill,
And we must roll our way along the path
That seems the best to we in heedless haste.
We have no course but try our might on him,
And hope that glory shines on us, and pray,
Yet prayers do naught but voice the soul's desire.
If only fate could heed the pleas of each
Instead of all… I wish she'd care for me.
Alas, my knight, my friend: the world must turn."
"I worry for our souls, will they endure?
Is there a deathless country I'll explore?
I cannot bear the thought of nothing, nil!"
"If I should live and you should die, be sure
Your corpse shall rest beneath the undelved earth.
Yet if you breathe when I do not, be gone,
And bear thy victory to Arthur's hall
And not the rags I leave behind in death.
The skin a snake has shed he does not keep,
For when he's shed he needs his old clothes not.
A stellar skin I'll have when I am gone,
And gusts of wind shall be my shifting hair,
With not a thought to corpse I'd shed with life.
When death arrives, I hope that's how he comes:
A death that I'd enjoy between some spans
Of lonely life." Waves fell upon the shore
And stars did weep while fading from the sky
Delivering the heavy red of dawn
That cloak of dying night could not resist
As permeated through the veil of mist.