On a dune was the Traveler,
Looking down at the span.
He saw where he wanted to go—
A city amidst the desert sand.
For in the desert where he stayed,
Claws of loneliness scratched.
From the dune he came down,
To where desert met city.
Never had he come to this place,
He knows not what the city holds.
For the vague image in his head,
Had formed from stories he’d heard.
Entering the city, he expected a crowd,
Of people coming and going.
His assumptions were not fulfilled however,
For the streets were dark and lonely.
Yet in the distance the Traveler could hear,
The sound of people chattering.
Deeper into the hollow city,
The Sun lent its place to the Moon.
On a piece of broken glass,
Glinted a silver light.
The Traveler wandered to find,
The source of where the voices bind.
Yet it happened that as he came closer,
The sounds began to fade.
He could see figures bounding,
Like shadows under streetlight.
Seeing a figure crossing by,
The Traveler grabbed his arm.
"Where can I stay?" The Traveler pleaded,
But the Native pushed him away,
And faded into the night.
The Traveler wandered through dark streets,
From one streetlamp to another,
Searching for a kind face and a warming light.
Eventually, the Night surrounded the Traveler,
Clouds blanketed the moon.
Standing in a place he could not see,
Where monsters lurked in every shadow.
Ravens fluttered to and fro,
Cawing the harsh sound of despair.
Cried for help the Traveler did,
Yet no one came to his aid.
He crumpled onto the pavement,
As rain started to fall.
Water seeped into his skin,
Bringing cold despair.
Where he had sought friendship,
He found barren streets instead.
Isolation cast her tight net,
Binding him to his helplessness.
Though he once had hope,
The Traveler now felt like a fool.
They had said, “Go to the city,
Where everyone has a chance.”
Yet inside the city,
From desolation he suffocated.
Trying to escape the isolation,
He became more so in turn.
That night the Traveler slept under the rain,
And in the morning, he woke.
Cast from the city without so much a word,
The Traveler left, stumbling back to the dunes.
Passing the line where desert met city,
And into the lonely tides of sand.
On a dune was the Traveler,
Looking down at the span.
Seeing a city amidst the desert sand,
Where the Moon lent its place to the Sun.
In both worlds he had lived,
And still he was alone.