Muck and mire cover the golden thread.
A quagmire of tar in that old and ancient of swamps.
All humans must traverse its terrain.
The path, the events that lead them here, even the amount of times the swamp to travel, vary upon unlucky person.
Golden thread, sometimes found, sometimes broken beyond repair,
Glows somewhere in thick, sticky black.
Oft, the golden thread loses its brilliance over time.
Once the thread is broken, it is just a dirty thread,
A reminder of better times and the final betrayal.
Whether lost, found, or broken...no one's thread emerges from within the unearthly depths of the bog unchanged.
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