We spend the time as we have it, sitting quietly. Everlasting days stretch before us, endless like the perfect circle of horizon. We know that line is complete even if hills or tree trunks hide bits and pieces. And as I stare out at that thin line, I wonder how it is that we still have to end if it does not.

If it does not.

For some creatures, the horizon will disappear from view for what seems like forever. For others, they spend time they don't possess trying in vain to reach it. We'll never hold 'Forever' in our mouths like water from the fountain of youth. Nothing like that exists...

Yet I spend my time here sitting quietly, as if it will come to me.

Maybe it will, one day. Who am I to know what is planned for my future? The stag chuckled here. Only the fickle and glorious Gods know what is planned for my soul. I could be just as endless as this place and not know it. The waters that I have been in before, I could lie to myself and call them a womb, who knows if I could have been swimming in Eternity? A God far away is the only one who knows what was in the pool in his garden.


An Eden that I exiled myself from, and for this place.







And you know what?















I'm glad I did.