Chains passing by chains and ocean waves crashing on familiar rocks made for a haunting song of departure. Faces strange and tongues unknown made myth tangible and myth makers, fortune tellers. Why had we been invaded? Weapons had not been sharpened nor raised in offense. We had always welcomed newcomers and saw them on their way. Our land had been ours. Did we not realize error? Distant landscape and wide sky that had been witnessed from inception, are they now in recall? Had we angered the gods and interrupted natures flow?
Had monstrous vessels bobbing on our seas been sent for to devour our wrongdoing and make us whole again? Would we go back to our lands renewed and free of transgressions? That would not be our circumstance and we would never go back.
The people we had known, land we nurtured, the animals we had stalked, the trees and valleys, the mighty falls of water, even the moon and stars would be left behind. The spirit and love of a people would now be damned and waterlogged, with salty air mashing in with illness, sickness and lightless confusion and roughness of no more. We had been left behind and what was taken was now malleable and meaningless and would come to mark the end of this world. They had given birth to a breached, stillborn, bastard that would bring nothing but deep, deep destitution and alienation that would be etched in the stone tables of time. We had arrived to the new world.