Wayfarer - The Dreaming Plain

Rivers in the sky, a drifting cosmic quiet. Dry fields infertile, dying grass on bitter bone. A bastard, fostered patch of earth - the night in calm resignation as smoke meets the sky. Dreaming in waves, bleeding hallucinations. My veins extend, my blood is in the stars. The plains have not forgotten - the bitter winds forever tell. It rises red at dawn, and falls cold with the night. Carried through clouds, the great expanse. Displaced, my eyes need not see. Sky is all, separating. Land is lost, only away.