Iβm here to take you away.
Do you see that field? Those mountains? The clouds that hang above?
We will go beyond those things.
Your cheeks are red. Redder than I imagined when I received the word to take you over the river.
When I see you, I see a train I once visited a long time ago
To take many men, women, and children.
The train was a wonder β
It had been constructed with devotion
Admired with wonder and awe.
It powered forward on its maiden voyage,
On the crest of steaming to faraway places,
To drink in the sights of your green and blue wonder.
But the train slipped the moment it reached its cruising speed.
Derailed only moments after leaving the station.
Tragedy is my business, and business is always booming.
But I am an infinite being
And alongside my infinite devotion for crossing the river
I hold an infinite sorrow in the place you call your heart.
And I lament the future that has been painted in crimson on the wall behind you.
Yes, you may weep.
Weep, for you were a better man than those who will remain in this place for a hundred years.
Weep, for your dreams sprang and shone like a pure spring, and they were stolen from you.
Weep, for you never found the love you sought,
You never saw the children you wished so dearly to hold,
And you never had the privilege of wrinkles on your face,
Though I can see that you have miles on your shoes.
It’s okay, you may let go of your rifle.
Here, take my staff, if you must grasp something.
This place is but a warm breath in the winter winds,
And we will carry onward.
There is a cabin I know of
With a warm fire and a soft pillow.
We will go there together
And wait for the others.