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The dust. On the Path.

Traversed many a times

Over past eons.

The sun shines overhead.

Sometimes, the moon smiles.

And on dark days and cold nights

The rain lashes on pedestrians

And the Road.

I walk the Road now.

It's scarred bosom- the ravages of time

Tell of days passed by- centuries, millenia

My journey so significant, so insignificant

Is there any rhyme or reason to this universe?

A few people walk around me. Their company

give delusions of purpose. Makes me want to go on.

My friends. Brothers.