My burning heart casts vapors into the wind
And the mountain grows higher every day.
My reflection is blurred by the fog –
As The River No passes far below my feet
She dances farther away to her own tune
Her march getting louder as she climbs the mountain
She did not look back to see I had fallen behind.
I am broken, forgotten, and left for waste –
My dear Wormwood what have you done?
Tomorrow she will find herself alone and strong.
And my page will again be blank.