Her bones have withered three hundred tumultuous years.
This brittle sea, once a passageway,
now stands a moat.
And I am here, in a faraway land, playing pretend
as the ashes of her smoke-cloud drift across our divide.
I grieve for my home, I grieve for those who harm her,
but most of all, I grieve for you.
You who have traveled many steps—tattered, beaten, yet undefeated.
You who still walk.
This home, three centuries old, is but a small stone upon your path.
Today is a dark day for her, but you have known darker.
You are a friend of the night.
as you are a friend of the light.
Your journey is not yet complete,
more darkness awaits.
Keep walking.
The sun will rise. Daybreak will come.
And when night and day are one,
you have arrived.