We stood to see
what lay beyond the ridge,
as if we all thought
the world would be abruptly cut off,
and whatever went further,
just fell into nothing.
We all knew that the stars
lay in heaven, and each parting soul
filled the darkness
with infinite twilight.
Maybe when I die
I'll find a spot in Capricorn
with the heroes of Old,
hoping one day that my accomplishments
will mirror even the most
minor & lesser of our great heroes.
Almost there,
just thirty more feet.
"I'm afraid,"
admitted the quiet voice behind me,
"maybe we should . . ."
"No," I said, "we go on."
I hear the loud crunch
of rocks and dead vegetation
follow meekly behind me.
Can it be, that all this fear
of the great unknown,
of falling off the edge of the earth,
simply be to just strike fear
in the hearts of children?
Could it be that these skeletal frames
from afar be the home of the gods,
long left behind, forgotten,
to fade away into the twilight
of the heavens?
If this ridge isn't the end of the world,
then does it end?
And if it does, when?
Maybe beyond the great winters,
but if that was the case,
how do these winters seem to
never run out?
"What are those?"
Stammered an exasperated voice
behind me.
"The homes of forgotten gods."
I replied, as if it were all that simple.
