My shoes long worn out now got torn,
Within it rough, rude pebbles meet;
Pricking, poking in some stern tone
Knit-bit of my venturing feet …
Needle-like long pin-pointed thorns,
Pierced my now-dirty, ripped outfit;
Prodding every nerve, muscle, bones,
Thus tempting to stop my pursuit…
Horrifying rough rocky grills,
Frightening densely dim forests;
Mystery-like messy mole-hills,
Terrifying combs of hornets...
Sitting there leisurely, surely,
I tried removing...
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