As I drift of into the day
my conscious leaves me stranded,
the oasis that is the day
I leave behind to explore the desert instead.
Here I walk for days and sleep for nights
to find what has been nearly never found.
So i gather courage and plunder on
collecting treasures in my torn pocket,
leaving an obvious trail behind.
Keepers of the Past smile sinisterly
as I travel on the road less taken,
like vultures they count the hours,
like a hero, I refuse to be forsaken.
Artwork : prophet_by_medusainfurs
