...And we still tread on...

Hear nothing but the silence,

Silence of the strangest sort 'tis...

Sand, God-strewn, miles aplenty long,

white, sun white, vast all along.

Comes the wind, whistling as it does,

the mournful sadness of times past.

We tread on, on to nowhere, we do.

Hairless, colorless, clothless we are.

Thirsty, tired, desperate we are.

Journey unknown, we plod on...

Destination unknown, we egg on...

Life not in the blood, nor in the spirit,

Struggling on, kindred souls we are,

Wronged in life, deceived in death.

Eyes could open, then we closed;

Eyes could not, then long we did,

To see love, color, happiness, life.

Nothing to hold to, nothing to let go,

Never too happy to be reminded.

Souls march on, onwards to heaven,

Ignorance, for once, makes them glad.

Time was always cruel, short in gaiety,

But long and punishing in Loneliness.

We still tread on, on to nowhere, we do.