THE JOURNEY

I can't turn back
though the journey is far
and my feet are bleeding
while the wild wind lashes and leaves a scar

on my fragile face
in the grey sky the last star
seems to fade away and the shadows
of midnight are out to mar

all that which is beautiful and benign
hungry and thirsty but no inn is in sight
the dust scatters in the chilly air
not a single traveller is seen in the night

but I can't turn back
I have many promises to keep
and if I should perish in the nowhere
I would count that my peaceful sleep