The art of losing. Its all come down to me sitting under a tree. On a river bank. On a sunny morning. Its an inconsequential event. That wont go down in history. This is not a battle or a pact,. Whose motives are examined,. Or the noteworthy assassination of a tyrant. Yet I am sitting by the river; thats a fact. And since Im here,. I must have come from somewhere,. I must have turned up in many other places,. Just like the conquerors of lands. Before they set sail. Its Friday before its Saturday,.