the Dark Town poems II: The wastelander

July 16, 2010
By Anonymous


Surviving the desert’s cruel kiss
The man walks along

Sand fills his boots and his heart has no bliss
As the man walks on

Giving the shifting sands of time and a glare of his gun
The man walks along

Frightened and Scared, the sand twists into a bun
As walks a long, long, walk

No food, no shelter, and not even a drink
The man walks along

His eyes deadlocked, and he, not even stirring up a blink
He walks a long walk

His poise is excellent, his game face is set
He walks along

Heavy boots splits the sands of his eternal bet
As he walks on.

A storm is coming but he does not hide
As he walks forward.

He’s body is built, but he has not ounce of pride
As he walks on.
Sand swells around but he does see
As he walks on

His mind is set, his thoughts are free
As he walks into the storm

Looking back, he sees it again,
A tower that has no end


A storm is here but he doesn’t want to see
As he walks on.

Those beloved, they who can walk free
While he walks

The town, it laid dead ahead
But he kept on walking

But the tower was in the back of his head
As he kept walking

His bet, he remembered his bet
As he kept walking

No matter what, he had to pay his debt
As he kept walking

A thousand upon a thousand years he betted on a life
He kept on walking

Now, he was here and she was away with a knife
But he still walked on

Her love for him turned him cold
But he kept on walking

She was with them, her mother and father of old
As he kept on walking


Day was night and night was day
As he walked on.

Not one memory flew, not one his way
As he walked on

For he knew it would give him dismay
As he walked on

The tower was in the back of his mind, as he turned and looked
Then, he walked away

The author's comments:
The third poem in the Dark Town trilogy of poems is on its way.

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