words beckon to me, nay-demand my attention they purl in paroxysm begging interview is it not true that we are a river destined to run an immutable course? what then is the purpose of purpose? an inclination to be apart from that which moulds us I search the heavens from my star apart and I am lost in the desert sands my arrival to wisdom was opportune for it began with ardor but it lies in squalor, untended and incomplete I hear the name in the echo of hollows a haunting whisper in the forlorn wind a wish from a world without, where like-tributaries splice subjugated in a metropol yonder silence holds my woe, perched on an eminence of privation my chains atug-wishing to board a barge to transverse this atlantean expanse the destination an abode long wished for whereupon dwells my odyssey's fair accolade photo by magnusvk http://www.flickr.com/photos/magnusvk/166233536/sizes/l/