Lonely roads I've walked. Uneven, cobbled-stone streets. With barren fields on its side. Arid, dry, lifeless.
In a distance, a man walks. His face down, never looking up. Upon me he lifts his face and smiles. Slowly he walks by.
Another man walks beside me. Held my hand, leading me. To what seems an ocean far beyond. Onto it we went, only to see a mirage.
Again, I went by my lonesome to that lonely road. Beckoning me to continue This trek to a promised land.
A crossroad, the first man returned. This time with face up, beaming with hands reaching out, offering slowly I held them, step by step.
Trek we did on this not so lonely road Farther, uphill we climbed, hand in hand Lo! and behold before us lies a valley of flowers of unknown kind.
Upon the horizon birds fly spreading their wings upon the mountainside. By my side he still stands holding my hands, he leads me to the promised land.
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