One-more-step, one-step-more, one foot, in front the other, keep walking.
I was making my way through the secluded valleys, out of sight of The Army’s of Man, trying to get to Jerusalem, with me and my precious cargo intact. Under an April moon, it had it’s light whirling around, as my heart was lost on a distant planet, whirling in an arc of sadness.
Who would believe, that just a fortnight ago, I was supping, with six dethroned kings, at a little inn, during carnival time, in Venice, and now, a stone’s throw from Jerusalem, and walking a lonely mile in the moonlight, With a million stars shining my path, I’m lost. But am I?
Struggling with my steps, it’s in my head, it’s the psyche of my logia, or Psichiologia de ratione animae humanae, it’s got to be, now that i’m getting closer. I hear the ancient sighs of sadness, with every step I think of you, every footstep only you, and every star, every grain of sand, tell me, how much longer?Let all my kingdoms turn to sand, and fall into the sea, leaving me with the leavings of a dried up ocean, in my kingdom of sand, I’ll be mad about you, mad without you.
