Within 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 cloaks 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, woeful yet focused, dance with the yellowed line,
A constant 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 valleys vast and mountains monumentally 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 was lost within a gentle kiss,
Of slumber and silence, the land's sweet repose,
While the tires beneath me continue to compose.

The long lonely roads are my stage for thought,
Where the theater of life is often brought and...