mist everywhere, it is difficult to tell when the line truly is

and the whispers are all around, each one sounding like

it might be from behind, to the right, left, center

till the mind becomes dull from too much, over stimulation

but the light is all about, sometimes getting clearer, other

times it seemed more like a trick of the eye, the mind wanders

to memories, to what could happen, a world of if’s 1, 2, 3

the race does not come about, legs worn out from walking,

calories depleted, a longing for rest that cannot come when vultures

circulate on high, their cries are startling clear, it is a must.

do or die. walk on even if it is in circles, a going back towards

the past, a heading to some illusion they call it the sight,

others say it is a fool’s cause, the endless doubts,

1mm 2mm, the caricature becomes alive, engorged, massive

200km, 300km, the mind becomes dull when the present is riddled

with part lies and part truths. does it matter?