Marching on

They kept on throwing me

like a piece of rag out of their way –

onto that lonely path that happened to be mine.

And so I kept travelling

All alone on my own way.

With every step, a part of me broke off

some love, some sense of happiness,

some lost hope,

some dream about what could have been

Some ability to trust

The destiny of my dream already left behind –

like the cries of torn families after the war

like the transcendence of silence after a storm

Like the emptiness of sound after the dusk

And now it’s my turn

Staring at the vast horizon I hurled myself into the stillness.

This was my emptiness – pervasive and ubiquitous

This world is the dream and my destiny.

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