His clan once relied on stars to chart their course.
Before bag pipes sang across foggy isles.
Traveling to where ocean and sun kissed in obscurity.
When narwhals and his clan lived together in cavern cities under the sea.
When kelpies aided the lost, and selkies lured men with riches.
Where unicorns ran on beaches, and he danced in endless tides.
Then Sun and Moon quarreled,
the Earth bled fire.
Mountains fell into seas and rose from ocean floor.
Trapping him in a Loch deep as night.
Fathomless tunnels under Scottish mountains, he searches endlessly. All
leading to nowhere.
Isolation turned maddening,
too many aeon passed.
His eyes seen miraculous miracles,
Druids followed the moon.
Celtic goddesses danced among heather.
Finn and Fianna battled in surrounding hills.
Wolvers still leave food for the poor.
And Shetlands graze on kelly green highland grasses.
He breaks surface every common era
offering himself to Cailleach Bheur.
Begging under each blood moon for death.
Quint hundred millennia passed before his desire granted.
Loneliness was already a tomb.