Monday, February 15, 2010

A Wanderer

In the golden fog, I stood alone,

Shivering, save for a blush on the face.

I held my knapsack, and my heart,

I brushed my feet across the earth,

To remove my trace.

I looked right and I looked left,

Nothing existed in the White surrounding me,

The piercing fog still lay thick,

And I started to look back again,

On the road I left undone.

The ray of light was still but far,

Though no sun was in the horizon,

My feet still brushed across the earth,

My blood and tar

Were found companions,

In the dullness of a day's rebirth.

The golden fog now turned red,

The ray of light was blazing fire.

I stopped abruptly, and looked around,

I heard the voices whispering in dire:

"Make your way, but make it steady,

It's he who does so that ends up happy.

Don't be afraid, you'll make it safe,

If not, we'll be here, digging your grave.

Beware of the road, and don’t look behind,

The road is always cruel and never kind"

Amidst the white darkness

And the pain

I made my way

Yet again.

Suddenly my feet were no longer there,

A thousand feet under, I lay and stared

Straight ahead it was all clear

And the golden fog, the white fog,

Lay thick and heavy,

Above my head.



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