the elves departed

making the journey
requires nothing but our hope
springtime is breezy

naming the makers
travelling towards the day
buds on the branches

only the wisest
recall when we knew magic
regretting the loss

when did we allow
the world to become boring
empty of power

what makes us vapid
no longer willing to see
the light beyond light

hidden in shadow
there are no more monsters now
only the dustballs