The day is drawing to a close, and I know not what will come of the things I’ve set in motion. Nothing, most likely, and yet, it could be everything. So I pray. A coolness invades the evening, a soft melancholy of oncoming night. The green leaves are tinted blue, and I’m tired. Lord, I’m tired. I shiver, it might be fever; how sick I’ve been these last few days. Still, whether right or wrong, I’ve pushed on. God guide me through the night; I’m afraid.
I think it’s time. A step forward. May this be the way, my Lord.
Tale Told 