The Poetry? The austerity of England. The Life harsh and brutal. The Earth unforgiving. Only the Moon can offer solace. This place is Myth and is Legend. The deep roots of our history, so distant now, are coiled, in places long forgotten under a twilight sky. There are monsters on this Earth. There are spirits of the Earth, beasts and heroes. We must not sleep this day. My Earth breathes and the light of day dreams of a time and of a coming where the night will kiss the setting sun and all the wonder of this world is born upon the shoulders of a man. And who is he? The Wanderer above the Sea of Fog. What are his possessions? The Vanitas. The crafts and culture of the Man and what objects can be possessed. The lute, the sword, the skull. All that can be had. Why does he follow the Moon? Who would not? She is beautiful and timeless. His words: All men are lost in this world. Give yourself up to the imminence of the Death and surrender yourself to the ocean and to the unremitting waves. Your father awaits. I go to prepare a place for you.