Session 59 - The Reckoning of Kaeldaan

Where is the sunset that I asked for?O I have seen a myriad sunsets, each differentWith their colors draped over the fieldsIn glowing hues that shimmer and singBut not the sunset I have longed to seePressure from the south drivesBriney rain and fresh sea air andClouds grasping northward, clawingAway the sky every solsticeThere is no sun on the morning the cityWas designed to see. There is no glintOf star Hemeel in the night beneathThe thunder, heavy and warm overheadAnd in the fading light of the last day of KaeldaanI do not blame the rain.Where are my children?O I have many children, some old some youngWith their colors draped across their shoulder bladesAnd spears in hand and baskets of foodApples in springtime for cider, barley in the fall.Pressure from the north drivesDesperate footfalls southward andTiny hands grasping for mothers, clawingFor their home as they cry and plead at the gatesThere are no children on the morning the cityWas designed to rear. There is no hopeful laughAs my son brings a stray dog home andNo more hearth, heavy and warm withinAnd in the lost laughter of the last day of KaeldaanI do not blame the children.Where is my immaculate city?O I have walked her myriad streets, her colorsDraped across marquees and hanging fromShop windows. But I do not find my cityOn any map any longer. She is here but not.Pressure on the edge of the forest(there was a forest here before? It is here but not)Drives hungry men with spears andEmpty carts where food once was.There is no city on the morning there wasSupposed to be a city. Supposed to be a redBrick wall and white smoke, the smell of lavenderThe morning after the solstice.And in the silence of the empty city, the city that is notI do not blame the hungry men.