In the quietude of the moonlit plains,
Where the whispers of the wind are my only refrains,
I navigate the asphalted serpents, endless and alone,
A modern-day Odysseus with only my wheels for a throne.

Truck driver, my title, a nomad of the night,
Guiding my metal steed through the cloak of white light,
The stars are my compass, the road is my home,
Whereby the miles stretch out like a silent, endless poem.

My eyes, weary yet focused, dance with the yellowed line,
A silent companion that is ever never far behind,
The hum of my engine, a lullaby soothing and true,
While the world outside my window becomes a blur of blue hue.

Through sands of deserts vast and mountains eternally high,
Where feigned shadows play tricks on my weary eye,
I steer with a purpose, a destiny to fulfill,
Delivery of dreams, the essence of my will.

The headlights pierce the veil of the darkened abyss,
Revealing a world that is lost within a gentle kiss,
Of slumber and silence, the land's sweet repose,
While the wheels beneath me continue to compose.

The long, lonely roads are my stage for thought,
Where the theater of life is often brought and bought,
Memories of laughter and tears intertwine,
With the rhythm of a journey---so keen, so unkind.

Each town a fleeing whisper of warmth and cheer,
A brief respite from the solitude fleetingly near,
Yet, the siren's call of the open road is clear,
And the wheels of my life beneath me keep turning, year after year.

Truck driver, a title I wear ever always on the tide,
Upon the highways of life, my story of pride,
For the wheels, they take me to places unseen,
But my heart, it yearns for the comfort of a familiar queen.

Home, a beacon in the distance, a flicker in the night,
Where the warmth of love is the more constant light,
Than the neon signs which line my nocturnal plight,
A sanctuary waiting, a haven ever so bright.

So I shall always ride through the storm, yes, and conquer the cold,
For the promise of a tale, of a journey justly bold,
And when the dawn truly breaks, and the road's final toll is told,
The wheels will bring me back to where my heart has been bold.

Truck driver, a soul bound to the earth,
Yet, in spirit, I soar with each twist and turn,
For in the oneness of the open road's rebirth,
I find my ownself, indeed reborn, with every mile I have earned.

So, let the wheels spin, let the diesel sing,
For the long lonely roads are where my heart takes its wing,
And though the night may stretch out, thick in the fog,
The promise of home will keep me safe from that black dog.

Truck driver, yes, that is who I shall be true,
Guarding the night, delivering into dawn's sweet lighted view,
But oh the victory, when the wheels take me thence to my sighted goal,
Where the long, lonely roads are no more, so thus I am made forever whole. 

© Travis Allen King aka DTH