The calling of time

simple and new

yet old as the rocks themselves

She stands

whitter than sun-bleached bones

tall,regal, and cruel,

and yet somehow forgiving,

as if she understands what I am leaving behind

as if she knows

He screams,

beging me to return,

I know I cannot

I reach for her hand and together we fly

past darkness, past pain

past every trial

and they are there

she's crying, holding her arms out

he's laughing, like old times

It's like it never happened

like I never betrayed them

like I never killed them

They stand beside me,

I'm home again,

and we look down upon the man we call our son

as he fight's, and sufferers, and begs...

and lives

which is all we ever desired.