there is a point when having missed the boat
each steps aside and thinks that there's a way
off this hard coast out of this shallow bay
back to the heart and places less remote
than swampy shores where answers come by rote
but not this time it's late and tempers fray
sun has gone down now there is no more day
soon terror will reach out and seize each thoat
what once was magic has become no more
than one more trick and that already known
even to children so it does not fly
the others watch as every wooden door
slams shut and the cold walls of carven stone
all seem to turn their back to questing eye
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