Author: Nigel G Wilcox 14.07.20
Chapter Seven
The Dusty Road
No.100
One walks the road to nowhere, to see what one will find,
one sees the blue sky above oneself
And the birds souring higher than high.
The white clouds are like marsh mellows
And shapes of so many kind...
I walk the dusty roads; towards the sun that never shines...
My thoughts play out the past, like a movie within my mind;
Some would call it daydreaming, some say I've lost my mind!
Those that know the long stare of time, a 1000 yards ago,
Those of us, outside the norm, that use to eat the dust.
Some would call it the adrenalin rush,
However: we know what it really is....
Every day the trials are the hurts and scars, of loved ones lost,
To the years of stillness of the dark shadows bare,
All loss of hopes; all hope's just lost.
And an emptiness of that stare...
When I see tomorrow, it will be a dream or a nightmare in the shadows. In spite of a fight, the cycle is always there, repeating, repeating...
The faces, the glare ....
So today, I escape another life and explore the road once more,
Point my compass to the warming south, triggering new thoughts and go....
With reflections of years and objects owned, wondering where they are now?
They can only be within my dreams today, as the key has been thrown away!
The doors were tight and without the light protruding in any way,
The ties of soul and morality escaped all memory....
All corners of one's mind, escaping to places I don't know....
Only to see them escape through the windows of my soul.
My mood swing, towards my adrenalin rush, pushes me on,
Thinking of those times with my heart on my sleeve, for what?
I was done!
Can I forgive those that robbed me of my past, those years?
The pain of the shrapnel within my heart?
Those aches and pains and loneliness of just being one...
The rain falls, trees are my witness...
Mother nature comforts me and I breathe another day....
one sees the blue sky above oneself
And the birds souring higher than high.
The white clouds are like marsh mellows
And shapes of so many kind...
I walk the dusty roads; towards the sun that never shines...
My thoughts play out the past, like a movie within my mind;
Some would call it daydreaming, some say I've lost my mind!
Those that know the long stare of time, a 1000 yards ago,
Those of us, outside the norm, that use to eat the dust.
Some would call it the adrenalin rush,
However: we know what it really is....
Every day the trials are the hurts and scars, of loved ones lost,
To the years of stillness of the dark shadows bare,
All loss of hopes; all hope's just lost.
And an emptiness of that stare...
When I see tomorrow, it will be a dream or a nightmare in the shadows. In spite of a fight, the cycle is always there, repeating, repeating...
The faces, the glare ....
So today, I escape another life and explore the road once more,
Point my compass to the warming south, triggering new thoughts and go....
With reflections of years and objects owned, wondering where they are now?
They can only be within my dreams today, as the key has been thrown away!
The doors were tight and without the light protruding in any way,
The ties of soul and morality escaped all memory....
All corners of one's mind, escaping to places I don't know....
Only to see them escape through the windows of my soul.
My mood swing, towards my adrenalin rush, pushes me on,
Thinking of those times with my heart on my sleeve, for what?
I was done!
Can I forgive those that robbed me of my past, those years?
The pain of the shrapnel within my heart?
Those aches and pains and loneliness of just being one...
The rain falls, trees are my witness...
Mother nature comforts me and I breathe another day....
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