Ash to Ash dust to dust. The tears fall like rain upon a wasteland of nothing. The flowers are dying and the sun is clouded by a fog of sorrow all that can be seen is a single broken road. And I travel it alone. I pray to the gods. There is fortune at the end. But my feet are bloodied and bruised. And met with looks of rejection and silence from those I would call kin. If I survive this winter. Maybe I'll sing a different tune. Family is a lie. Friendship is a false pretense of desired appearance. The truth lies in selfishness and I but one Noble soul. Traveling on the broken road to no where. Such is the path God has set upon me. I hold my head high for at least there is a road at all to follow. Namaste.
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