Byron

The sea has made me sick of this watery journey, an I’m glad we have made land no matter the perils it may hold. My time has begun i must not hasten or delay but steadily make my way to the New homeland. Marking our path.

Grief, the sadness of taking the spirit from form. My return has seemingly necessitated the killing of two humans this dusky day, to save this Musical Human Water Child. The child was saved

but these two dead men remain on my mind heavy even now. Who’s clan do they belong to? Were they ruthless rats out to murder the boy, or relatives from another clan family rescuing the boy?

Byron

Leaves on the Wind Compost