Moving like a locomotive,
passing through abandoned towns;
scenes of melodious life,
emerges to sight;
people walking round talking and laughing;
children playing and teenagers chit chatting;
here and gone like a breeze in the wind,
off into the forest traveling again;
passing foreign bodies and distant land;
come across another spot desolate of people,
dried up like deserts,
pyramids and sand;
then directly before blind sight images appear,
is it imagination or truly the one,
with the gift of sight,
and the strength of faith, chosen am I
to walk the path of righteousness
amongst demons and monsters;
disguised as a pauper;
poor old man destine to bleed before
the evils ever succeed;
fighting to the death,
so my family will live life;
time slowing down,
or am I moving faster;
what ever it is,
I'm in it to win it,
no more smiling and laughter;