The horizon feels too strange,
the place of it, too alien for destiny.
A haze of guile undulating like waves,
so that as I look upon that distant goal,
my eyes are strained to hold it down,
yet still – I can’t make sense of it,

can you?

I’ve moved so little,
but I know it has moved against me,
together we both are changed,
though surely the journey is lost;
that future stalled while the horizon continues,
unmoved by my confusion,
taking measured steps long past my ramblings.
I cannot hope to keep up,

can you?

The static landscape envelopes me,
in a skyless desert without purpose,
where neither direction nor pace matter.
The horizon, stranger still,
keeps running towards a pointless end,
Sometimes – I swear I hear it screaming,

can you?