But when shall we reach our trains?
What we have reached yet is only a nightmare...
Long ways to walk, shall this tender calves of our thighs brace our passions?

When we can walk we are left with no paths,
When we finally return to long roads our legs might have long gone....
What else then other than our thoughts do we have?
What else other than hopes when left to crusade in battle beds?
We only dream. We only reverie...

© thepoetharri