Friday, 19 November 2010

To Whom It May Not Concern 26/1/2008

Onward I walk over dunes and sand; through trees and grass. Onward to a destination I know is inevitable. Where my journey will lead me I do not know. Hard is the path of a man that wants it all yet desires nothing. Dreams of a land the same as I see before me only shaken into something new. Beaches riddled with forests of evergreen. Mountains topped with endless meadows and fields. Cities at a standstill as an innumerable herd of animals meander through gridlocked traffic. Cityscapes lining the rainforest canopies. A statue erected to a great soul in the middle of a desolate frozen tundra. Wars only fought on a checker board. Soldiers carved of stone. Onward I walk in search of a place unknown.

The world in front is empty,
To fill it quickly -
People often try to tempt me,
The world inside is;
Where I be,
Able to survey this land;
Through everything I see,
This is not what is real;
What is real is that no man is free!

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