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By Kevin Alan Lamb

Traveled my days, traveled my nights

Sleepless, running, wandering these sites

Rolling plains, burrowing meadows

Chased only by my shadow

Over the beaten path

Through the streets I was told I wouldn’t last

Sunrises and sunsets

A few good memories, lost in a lifetime of regrets

I remember the city lights from another world away

The mountains, once I’d travel too far to say

What they meant, if they meant, anything to anyone

Footsteps, bicycle tracks, in death I may relax

Bathed amongst babbling brook

Far too often mistaken a crook

Chased and cursed, at times the order reversed

Too many faces, loaded in hearse’

Buried away– with me, these memories stay

East to West, failure to failure to the occasional conquest

Set out to conquer the world

Would settle now for a mile and a half

These woods exist beyond me

These rivers flow further than these eyes will ever see

The wind tells a story of far greater men

These rocks are beaten more than I’ve ever been

My breath, my death, my walk, and my talk

My pain, my name, red eyes and blue skies

My song and its beat, to one last tune

The distance, without resistance, the crimson sun, the end of a life just begun

The softness of a disappearing voice

How goodbye sounds, coming without a choice

Words without wisdom, wisdom without words

A single snapshot lost; flown away with fluttering birds