3 Hours 47 Minutes 53 Seconds

Saddness is encroaching upon my shoulders. The dichotomy of a sunset parallels the feeling at hand; the glory and beauty of seeing the last "shard still glisten in the laquer" of the mountain tops, the inevitable pain of never being able to see it again. The Rheostatics will never rise again, and in their setting moments, I fear that their shard of glinstening beauty will be witnessed by only a few. Not me. Not my ears. Never again will they hear the woundingly pensive moments of the Rheo's creating music, never following music.