I am tired, I am weary, I could sleep for a thousand years....
I question also, much. One must attempt to balance the expectations with the answers given, the promises; compelled to try, obliged by contact, proximity.
It's never easy. Promises scarcely equal expectations. They should, might. They are always pointed at different stars.
My last lines:
No one saves others, or else, or was.
To the spritely tune of:
Or was, or was... all the wonderful because we does.
We're off to slay the blizzards.
We're off to slay the blizzards.
.
