Did his journey, start locally? Or a thousand miles away?
Silently, walking, not talking. Throughout, the night and day.
Like a machine, on automatic pilot. Nonstop, to the next town.
A shadowy, passing figure. With neither, a smile or a frown…
Through the forests, the storms, up and down city streets.
Following the stars, at night. A brief respite, from the heat..
A Traveling Man. Is what he is. Hitchhiking a ride…
He'll go, as far as you carry him. His secrets remain inside.
Where has he been? Where is he going? Hmmm, I wonder…
Is he on a mission of mercy or a mission, to plunder?
No grass grows under the feet, of this rolling stone.
The whole world is his playground. An unrestricted zone.
The sound of passing footsteps. As you take heed.
Like a walking, headless horseman, missing his steed.
His compass is pointing north, south, east, and west.
On a never-ending, marathon. Since leaving the nest.
What is around the next corner or over the mountaintop?
These boots were made for walking. They may not ever stop.
Through the snow, the mud, through the desert and rain.
When he arrives at his final stop. Will there be joy or pain?
Walking, human, wagon trains. Passing us by, each day.
I can only hope for them. That somehow, they'll find their way.
Walking this earth is not a good feeling. While, all alone.
Ant the journey only gets longer. When your Destination's Unknown.