to struggle

Words, like dry bones, litter the valley and the wind howls out against the insensible cacophony of stars which scrape the sky. The animal, Man, wanders the land, searching for meaning among stones and sigils, running his hand along the darkened cave of his mind, feeling, scrawling, along the thick, stony walls, the outline of what he knows. Years later, his struggle but an ancient memory, his descendants, prosperous, fat and rich, will have all but forgotten the utterances behind the words with which he tried to paint the Truth.