• I will walk this long path, and I will walk this path to it's end,
    to the far edges of the heart I will walk this long path...
    For I can no longer lose but dust, yet even death can nae rid me of it.

    Rows of palm trees hint me to what passes, as I push on towards my home.
    I will cross the palm rows...

    Does a wound require to be felt, to draw a fruit of aught?

    I will build for you, thirty windows to existence, above the soul hidden in the heart,
    as I retire from this abandonment, to yet another.

    The road may or may not narrow, but we will walk this long path to the end of the bow,
    as our steps sharpen like arrows.
    Have we been here since long ago, and will we soon arrive where it begun?
    The winds turned, and we turned with them.
    What will we say?

    I for one will say: I will walk this long path to it's end, or to my end. I will walk this path, this long, long path, to the dirt that will be my end, as it was my beginning. To the soils I can call my own; To the land I can call home.