The time of the fiction is
completing for now. We grew tired
travelling the path of our culture, and for
a time were enticed to dream of triangles.
The moment of the trilogy, the beginning,
middle and end is passing, for a time. Say
goodbye to the happily ever after, the
fantasy of perfection, at best a
momentary rule of rigid wish,
allowed by a temporary
the journey is
being sought again,
to continue with the road
that changes but does not end.
For a long time we'll revel in the parts
we had missed, how highwaymen said we
could trust them as we rested, and then stole
the burden we didn't know was making us tired.
We will smile as they go, those ones who try to
fight others, and may be qualified to do so if
they ever finish struggling with themselves.