In the past repast seemed enough to get by... satiated in the memory of what was to be, without being what it might indeed have been. The silent sway of reverie held our impulse then, drifting as it did beyond the monuments of ages long gone and moments long adrift. Though seemingly innocous, the truth of the moment long ago gave in to blantant misapprehension. Thus have fallen the strictures and structures of callous tongue and weathered heart, bent beneath the tides of time eternal, the swift pressure of the aion spent.
Who can say what betrayal led to this sorry state of nature. Who can say what unthought comment found in the host that final straw. A shower of misfortune rained upon victor and victim alike, set as it was in the ever shifting sands of sadness. And yet away whisked, away taken, the notion, the message, the meaning, silence. A shattered jar, and the light of the universe bleeds away into oblivion.