Far and weary I have wandered

In search of Nevermore,

Through barren lands of Evermore

For hints of bygone yore.

 

Over dried-out plains I travel

Seeking sanctuary

From Evermore, cursed quarry

Of horrors so unearthly

 

Phantasma spring of heated wilds

Once part of olden lore

When wild things graced Nevermore

With quilts of grassy hoar

 

As solitary I have walked

I chanced upon a man,

With beard of snow and eyes of woe

We stopped and said hello.

 

He had once known that Nevermore

Before we all destroyed it

With gas and flame the land we split,

Worst crime we did commit.

 

The land was fruitful, unlike now

And water a safe hue

Nevermore wore brilliant blue

And song so clear and true.

 

For hours on end we spoke of it,

The things I’d never known,

Before, they were folklore alone

On which interest had grown.

 

Next morn his camp (two minutes’ walk)

Was empty of a soul,

I wandered up a lonely knoll

And pondered where he’d strolled

 

Nevermore had been his only goal

To reach from Evermore,

Away from these great desolate moors

To what once was before.

 

 

With his leave I’d gained a little clue -

Nevermore, of where it is

And how to find it, through this mist

Of Evermore’s cold fist

 

I would find it when it came the time

Half serendipity

For this I will traipse willingly

In questioning soliloquy.