MemoriesMemories, the elusive nomads
Come and go as they please
Adding water, or flames
Leaving lands fertile and nourished, or scorched and barren
Prediction fails against these agents of old
They will nary be controlled, neither confined
Run their course they shall, even
Amok should they deem fit
All that can be done
Is to stand fast, and
Allow the marauding herd to
Fill your earth to exhaustion