to unravel in comfort

i have been a scout and i have been a messenger on the highlands of Hibernia and down in Timbuktu a face full of Celtic runes and wrapped in fluff i watch my party from the edge up above alone and pretending to be the enemy for their sake but the shadows tall tree trunks cast upon the ground are all long lines that always grow shorter to noon to turn from the climax of things to ease into its resting swoon alas, i see myself too and from the edge a new camp is made a new watcher is born in the face of the future looking for a shiny niche in the bitter-sweet canvas here where neither want of what is empty to be filled nor to empty what is full a place which is no place at all where the campfires cease and burn no more all in all to be come silent as the night all be it stark darkness or at full moon to never find oneself again to be discovered as the mission gets accomplished -as in to die to unravel in comfort

CuldeSac

What are words without understanding and what is understanding without sense?

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