494.

Vertigo begins,
trailed through a sense of change, stuck
etched as elusive.

493.

The unrelenting
onslaught of rain here wears the
sky down in cleansing.

492.

I can feel the seas
call to swallow me down with
each ships slow passage.

491.

The fading city,
a towering edifice
in time's reversal.

490.

Honor lays at the
feet of a million bones spent
when their keepers left.

489.

If only the bent
knees supplication to saints
evoked prayers found.

488.

And so the armies
of children march, painted but
robbed of joy by time.