A Poem I Wrote While Thinking Of The Road

Location

Roads, as far they go,

Can only hope for the tread

Of a father and son

So lost in a world that

Could only propoagte and burst

Past its invisible seams.

 

Their world is godless

Yet such an infinite presence 

Is present, guiding them

Perhaps such a presence is fate?

Yet would fate have it so?

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