A word never spoken, a line never penned, a desire never expressed, a song never sung.
It went out with a tide that never returned, on a journey that never ends with a boat that never shores to a place that is unknown.
It is in time but yet to be.
But some day it shall well be.
Until then the paper boats that I set to sea,
Will carry the stories of you and me.
I will grow old and light as a breeze
And when these distances are too much to bear
I too shall call in a wave
And ride to the sea.
Rest your mind my dear friend
We shall meet again at the very end
For I have heard that all the rivers in this world
Find their way to the Sea.