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The Traveller
The sun beats down on a leather face,
The burnt remnants of a trying past.
Saddened eyes gazing towards nothing,
The empty stare of a life harassed.
A single pair of footsteps trailing,
Disappearing into the distance.
Weighted footprints from a heavy heart,
The proof of lonely perseverance.
Barely standing on two blood stained feet,
Supporting old knees so rickety.
A silhouette wavering in wind,
The epitome of frailty.
Essence escapes from every pore,
A heavy musk, reeking of defeat.
The remains of a figure once proud,
Desire's fire finally obsolete.
Well versed in the language of failure,
Silent screams, shattered dreams so hollow.
The crying sun eternally sets,
Dark shadows stretch until tomorrow.
A weary soul in search of haven,
Quickly rejected by Heaven's Gate.
Overcome with exhaustion, yet still,
Reluctant to surrender to fate.
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