Everywhere I turn to
To cast down my burden
There is a fire already burning
So I burn with a thousand fires
Do I stop looking then?
Do I sit down under the midday sun
And let the vultures and the hyenas devour me?
I do find an oasis
And drink aplenty. And am fed. And am nurtured
For indeed the desert is vast
And indeed the traveller is stubborn
Bent on crossing this terrible and ghastly wasteland
PS: Thomas Stearns anyone?