A Walk

A fatigue of a thousand years in my heart that was never young

Made my skin the colour of the days which won’t bloom under winter sun

And the weight of a thousand bricks, which I walk with to build a home

Turned my back into a plate of steel which reflects the sky’s flawless dome


With my feet rooted in the trail, I stand still and I look ahead

My stiff arms, like two dried out twigs, reach for someone I couldn’t have

And a rain of tears, long suppressed, waters dust of the thirsty road

Like a flower of sand and clay your grey clone grows out of my sobs


It starts kissing my ugly face, looking into my melting eyes

And it says that it loves me. Please, do not say this, or I will die!

Dust to dust, but I’m still alive – my one breath and you’re naught but ash

Which I look down on like the worlds which I’ve built and broken myself


I’m alone on the road once more, bending lower with every step

Dust to dust, and I’ll crawl to there, where my brick home is meant to stand

And the fatigue of a thousand years, and my heart that was never young

Will, perhaps, break out of my chest, so I could smile at the winter sun

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