Feet cracking, bruised concrete making skin peel
Walking on the aching pads of reason
Finding home
Away from thought
No mind, he would call it
Acting without acting
Till the murmur of my disillusionments fade
To nothing

Quiet in the echoing void of my mind
******* away intended function
Allowing bones to cave in on themselves and muscles to stove up
Like dried dates in the summer heat

The night was long
Stretching its fingers out, pulling the hands inplace
So as an hour felt like an eternity
Each breath even longer still
I was exhausted
Walking on fumes
Blown over by a hard wind

But the end was in sight
The welcome red, bolted 1823
Where you rested, with soft bed
And warmth
Waiting to sooth the burn of my body
Final ease
Embraced in comfort only you could bring.