He had been here for a very long time walking in the mist, alone in the deep silence. The long abandoned town had disappeared long ago. Can't see any cairns, gone are all the houses too. He had lived here forever in between the gaps. In the blindspots of the gods. In the mist-clad night he himself created.
"I sense shadows, seems as though something is moving there." I call out but no one answers me; the soul in the mists.
There it was again, "Friend, friend can you see me? Walking here in the mist? Have you wandered as I have?" He called in the silence deep as death, "Did you see the street lights, shining in the village I left so long ago? Did you see what they did there? Do you remember what the state of things were!? Was anyone looking for me?" It was a bygone hope. He knew those he left behind were gone.
"Friend, friend, can you see me? Walking here in the mist. Have you wandered as I have? In the silence deep as death." Just a whisper of his own lonely voice now characterized by the heavy sobs of lost centuries, "Have you as I have, walked in the mist. Strayed from the beaten path near the mountain edge." The one he had been lost in for so long.
Do you know this loneliness little ghost? Friend, friend, do you understand me?
"Do you know any secret path? Have you wandered as I have in the endless uncertainty. Friend, friend, do you understand me? Don't you know any secret path? Have you wandered as I have in the endless mist?" He screamed into the empty.
In silence deep as death he laid in pieces before nothing. Hidden from life, hidden from death. Where no one could find the tatters left of him. No one would find the place he ripped himself apart leaving only traces.
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