12-3-16.


The road drifts north along an empty shore.  
Moving away from all that pressures
the broken souls and hearts of
those alone in this world.  
Headed no place certain,
just alone.

Endlessly mulling histories that never happened.  
Speaking and shouting into the empty places
and shattered emotions
That echo within the walls of their personal
prison.

Those that live within the spaces of another's life
spend theirs searching for any meaning
And affirmation for their own existence.
Only rarely finding that dream
within the dust, wind, and
Foreboding
that surrounds their very
existence.