By: Hugin
I had known him long ago. Too long ago to think of now – in truth it was a lifetime ago. I had laughed with him, drank with him, travelled with him… he had always been there. But paths split and fork to form different directions that must be followed and now… Now when I look at him he is so sad. He is an autumn tree that has watched its young leaves fade and die after the splendour of an all-too-short summer. He is the uneasy hours of darkness, when all but the troubles of the world are sleeping. He is still a man, but I cannot recognise him; his eyes so sad that angels would weep to look upon them, his face so lined with grief that even the laughter of a thousand memories cannot brush away the sorrow. Once I knew him and I loved him, but now, in his pain, I find I know him not.