Lonely Journey

As lonesome and solitary as a companionless cloud. Friendless and shrouded in darkness as an outlander by the night. Topped beneath the trees, drifting through a valley with a longing for the way the waves danced full of tumultuous jocund. At all hours the things of this world are so much with us; like nature and it's dominion, a covetous windfall it is says I. From time to time, gentil thoughts can droop and they often pine. Tim forms a man's decline. Compelled toward our destiny in mortal pursuit of it we go forth. Sooner or later all of us shall be kindred spirits in death while some of us live in the quest of the alluring and lingering wake of heaven.

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