Red Roads

Roads float on red hills

And I, their follower

Keep to myself and seek their thrill

For in life I know if one walks long enough

He can be like the road, red and rough.

Is there a road?

A path we all must walk?

Only for he who talks

Will stroll a path

For the wild woes after those who share my wrath.

Save for magicians and feckless wretches

Wisdom spills itself on the wind

And whispers in the trees

I have come round; and seen

Life is not to live it is too bleed

And in bleeding sow seeds

For flowers to grow thereafter.

A muse, a mind,

What is it I want to find?

Boredom of chill, yawning of heat?

I see too few achieve this feat

Of finding it, the it which is and isn't,

The bloodied waters of the still world,

Have no compare to that

And the waters of the depth of soul

Seem shallow in the face of that

So I come and heed the call,

Which in the end, will bring me to fall.

Wind and fool's games

Give me joy in their world-less play

And I have seeking found

That which chains me is that which is bound.

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