Tired.
Run out of fuel.
Am i on the right road?
Did i miss a diversion?
Or am i in one?
I do not know.
Nothing is as clear as it was..
A white mist has settled on my eyes.
Is this temporary?
I long for a coffin,
where i can lay back in blissful rest,
free of the cares of the world,
free to fly.
A roadblock,
my mind informs me.
A time to recuperate,
to observe the flowers
growing on the wayside.
A time to sit still.
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