Farewell.
I said it, the last word from my mouth
will it be, for each and every sunrise
will be without me now-
see that the candle's wax drips,
drop,
by drop, into the pool to be the last flame,
when all is gone. All is gone, for me,
but not for you, but you will see
the sunrise too, and know that somewhere I watch it.
The candle shortens - it is my last
Ages forward and ages past, I try
to flow through ink and quill
I see them all, i see you still
back to the sunrise, watching me, but not watching
the sunrise that I watch. It binds us now- us two, us three,
or four. No longer you, or me
but beings in the sunrise. Beings in the water,
beings in the wax. But lest someone
might sound my knell
I say for one last time, to you
to me, that while the candle drips, the last
word will be
Farewell.


- Phobos

Penned by my hand on the 21st of Haernos, in the year 131 MA.