Tough Feet

The days beyond
Return from thee

How meek and mire
Remaining—
Thus be my walk

A fathom
Created from duress
Without due cause.

For dire be my thirst,
And, oh, how tough
My feet have become.

What a life it is
To lead,
Blindly.

Forgotten—
Yet everlasting;
Invisible;
Yet formidable.

As the poorly winds blow
Through the woodlands
Sparingly to relinquish its power.

Casting its gaze
Amoungst thy vastness 
Of darkness that surround him.

Obey he must,
To the rhythm of
—The night. For all
Fleshly desires do die;
For all things, must die.