You Ask Too Much
They returned with your letter instead of you.
You write you are escorting travelers unnamed to a place unspecified on a journey dire. You say you will accompany them through the Misty Mountains, depart, and turn homewards. Your words lie. You will not abandon those in need. That is not you. You will see them through journey's end.
You ask that I trust you. I do. For I am your king.
You vow that you love me. I know. For I am your father.
You beg that I not worry. I cannot. For I am your king and your father.
6/1/2004