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Sufi Style<BR><BR>
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<a href='archives.php'>archives</a><BR><b>On Foot</b>
<BR>
<BR>
Whoever said the king was dead
<BR>
certainly wasn't far off from the truth.
<BR>
But you've two feet, and you
<BR>
think they're made for walking, and you
<BR>
think you'll find out tonight
<BR>
what they're really made of.
<BR>
To be sure, 10km by foot is not
<BR>
the end of the world, but it sure
<BR>
can feel like it with a week's
<BR>
worth of clothes on your back along
<BR>
a solitary highway lit simply by
<BR>
the half-moon half-high, and the
<BR>
occassional passing high-beam.
<BR>
Not to mention, of course, the
<BR>
implicit paranoia that sets in
<BR>
with each alien animal cry coupled with
<BR>
images of border-bush ambush.
<BR>
These, amongst others, are the thoughts
<BR>
that slowly eat at your will to go on,
<BR>
while at the same time manifesting
<BR>
in periodic bursts of speed set to
<BR>
restore civilization that much faster.
<BR>
The horizon quickly fades to your back,
<BR>
yet illuminates no greater ahead, and
<BR>
perhaps your worst fears have now
<BR>
been realized; perhaps it all really is
<BR>
nothing more than a dark road to nowhere.</BODY>
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