Good morning Master, Major, good Sir,
I hail from three days before the end.
In the light my skin shone sweet, and here,
it is green from travel, blue from no air.
I followed the shaded man into the vines,
through the canal, into the future and to here.
He told me to go back, said no further, no further,
but it was a rough, pleasant trip, the weather just right.
And the vines cut, the man said they would,
and in the nights I moaned and groaned,
but it felt alright in the vines and on the canal,
two days before the end, and then just one.