He walks alone...
They call him the lone traveler
With a calm, composed gait,
He walks on.
If you need a hand,
On any stretch of your journey,
He will hold your hand and walk with you.
Across that dangerous bridge,
Over the terrible valley of despair,
Where countless travelers have fallen prey
To the demons of delusion,
He will gently guide you through...
As you step off that bridge
You may close your eyes for a moment,
to let that shudder go down your spine,
And with gratitude in your eyes,
You may turn around, but he will be gone...
Without even as much as a nod,
He will have walked right on...
Why did you assume he was your friend?
Who can tell?
On another bridge someday,
He may walk with you again.
They call him the lone traveler,
And he walks alone...
April 12, 2013