The Journey

Red taillights, green vegetation
Dark skies, windy nights
Winding roads, bumpy rides
Welcome signs, goodbye signs
Loud music, racing vehicles
"Broken" waists, stiff backs
Yet we March on.



Lazy conversation, idle chatter
Loud drivers, louder passengers
Checkpoints, rest points
Yet we trudge on.

Travel weary, our excitement wears thin
Our faint smiles a camouflage
For our travel beaten souls.

Mud huts,impossibly positioned rocks
and rolling hills
Suddenly losing its lure
Our enthusiasm a distant memory
Lost in the tracks of the distance
We travel.

The night is young, but not for us
Its old withered hand has reached
Far and snatched away our rest
Leaving behind the ragged soul
Of a forgettable sleep.

Our story goes on,
So does the journey
We know not our fate
Yet we trudge on
To tell our tales of the caliphate.


                                     ©Chubi