The Plain Masks Of Daylight — Elend

The night shade A dark colonnade

The cypress, then the shore... I sought comfort in the foam. The wind heals the pain. A pale November rises. You know how in days gone by Even night sought shelter Under the plain masks of daylight.

Bitterness the wait: We are the fruit of rainy hours.

As Ulysses looking seaward, We mocked our innermost abodes. We sailed on older seas And reached the bounds of deepest water.

A wreckage in the rain A wreckage in the rain But the wind heals the pain.