Do come and ask

of Rosenyr.

Of all the things I’ve left behind.

Of all their people. Of their drinks.

Of all the creatures that came by.

I see it fondly,

Rosenyr.

Despite the cynics and their lies.

Despite the anger. Such anger.

So much greed and grief and pain and bloodshed.

Men gourmandizing gold, romantizing dread.

By gods I left so many things there.

What ignorance. There was endless fear.

Unspeakable fear.

But.

I forgive you,

Rosenyr.

I might see past your broken ties.

Your sacrifices, revolutions, poisoned drinks.

Your pretty corners, petty crime.

With broken pasts come broken people.

And broken people mend with time.

I come to see you,

Rosenyr.

And hope this time I don’t see knives.

For I sure miss your flower gardens.

Your shy demeanor.

And your wine.

T’was quite a journey,

Rosenyr.

You’ve made me laugh. You’ve made me cry.

And you were there when journeys came.

And you’ll be there when journeys die.