He treaded lost streets, he walked abandoned paths, and he was unhindered in his pointless wandering. Many people would label him a ghost upon the shores of water, humming sorrowful songs by day and singing eerie poems by night. He tamed the crying of children, the calling of the gulls, and he was kind to those who traveled around him, passing him through as if he were a mist that did not obstruct their destinations.

Others would call him The Storm-bringer. When he sang, the waters started to stir under the power of his voice, though only he knew it was the pity of the one who could not save him. Some said that he was a wraith, meant to bring chaos upon the race of Man by overtaking their conscious during the light, and subduing their subconscious as they slept during the night. He was called many names, correlated to the many locations he traversed upon.

The Ghost.

The Storm-bringer.

The Wraith.

The Wanderer.

One amused him the most. God's Messenger, a herald sent from Heaven to bring the sound of music, the promise of peaceful eternity, to those who did not sin. Immensely ironic, since he had revoked his own deities long ago and sinned beyond possibility.

But perhaps he should not have stayed in one place for too long. The people around the area knew him well enough, but he soon transcended history, slipped through legend like smoke, and was finally pinned down as a myth that would eventually be elapsed that none could recall, no matter how hard they might try, with only the success of gaining the nagging feeling in the back of their minds that they knew something…and disremembered it.

He was through and through the Forgotten.

And then he was nowhere to be seen, his body overtaken and consumed by his soul, his constrained spirit.

One day, they would find the poem.

And maybe, they would find a piece of him with it.

I wander along a dark shore
by night I am unseen
a wraith to steal across
lands of sand and green.
but it is all the same to me
I am on the periphery of insanity.
I wander along a dark shore
and you would not know
none would know
from my eyes
of the tainted tears that pour.