To be

no more does the weary traveller turn endless pages
no more does he walk the pavements of misfortune
instead
he walks alone on paths littered with the bodies of those he loved
our planet is no more
gone, with desert winds
he crouches
bent against them
and his tears
coated in dust
are soaked by the water that comes from the ground
he struggles on
relentless
to be beaten back
by his own subconscious
after time
he crumble
to be forgotten with all.