The verses of Titus the Lesser XXII

I walk the paths of days without hope. Leaving nothing to bear fruit in the sands of distant desert seared by the scorching winds of anger and retribution. Wandering over the expanse where no sustenance to feed illusory happiness would ever be found. Only that constant retribution of never having any memorable accomplishments that could somehow maybe be remembered by those whom I laid my thoughts upon their egocentric and fallacy of lives. Those long-forgotten destinations of beauty and songs that I visited upon my travels are just remembrances temporal sense of joy barely cherished by my crusted soul of a thirsty vagrant. The days of smiles were gone in an exact instant; that moment when I felt dismayed by incomprehension and unforgiveness. Every known face of graced friendship has evaporated under the aridity of disappointment or death. Forgetting the radiant smiles of true friendships lost in time does that to one who had thrived to remain distant by choice and malignant ignorance. My face has no smile to give anymore, for my semblance is shadowed by the sunsets colored by regrets. My face has no smile, for the distances captured in silence had taken my soul to the place where birds fall to die with tired wings. I reign in a kingdom of distances. A place never to be found by those who believe that happiness is supposed to be sought and attained by making others enjoy the sounds of one laughter and are strengthened by their accepted versions of solidarity of one cause and certainty. My walk remains constant with the pace of despair and sadness. Slowed by the weight of too many defeats. Of course, I'm a hunchback and disfigured. A face ragged under soaked sweated rags of anguish. My watery eyes cascaded down to the arid paths of a destiny of threnodies sung under many hollowed nights while visiting sacred grounds where love, family, and friends are buried in oblivion. My sight lowered for there is no one to look up and grant a single smile upon.No one to welcome me back after another day of traveling without a mission. Then, I keep waking up on the paths of pain, Quenching my thirst on rivers that brings the modulate voices of loved women on their waters. From beyond the lost valley where once I hid from the illusion of a lost once devoted togetherness with the woman who once loved me with all her precious heart of gold...I did never make her whole and never provided her with a warm comfortable home where she could realize all her dreams of love, motherhood, and devotion. And one day I found myself wandering away because of my shame and my nothingness. And suddenly I turned back on my feet, slowed down my strides, and went heading to the horizons where I knew I could find those unrelenting hypocrites who always blame me for my lack of possessions and ambitions. I took the silence as my possession and ambition. As my sole companion and it had stayed behind my tears. Nothing to say nor glorify and nothing to be thankful to any god. And while at it, falling deep into a cavernous solitude; that place where I come back to rest every single starless night. The day comes and I start traveling empty roads, facing the winds, for they would mask my face making me look like a face of the stone. Remaining attracted somehow by the beauty and ugliness encompassing nature, but never lured to be enslaved by the grace of an imaginary happy life and its instants. I had reserved all the songs learned from the birds of mornings, from the winds that enable them to conquer the skies above. Kept upon my heart of hearts the voices that the winds travel with as they passed over the treetops, making them dance the rhythmical dance of nature herself. I had kept concealed from people this certain notion of a none existent god at the side of this poor heart of mine as to be taken as an insidious person for them would most likely torture what is left my once valiant spirit of a ballad. Accepting inadequate beliefs would mean returning back to find hope and happiness again after the known truth of my coming death by their deceitful beliefs.. I rather remain in the outskirts of their pacifying bus mortifying teaching of appeasing a god by conveying his acceptance into whatever realm of peace they believe is there...it would mean relenting my freedom to find inspiration by witnessing the flights of birds under the blue skies. To leave this kingdom of solitude. To become imprisoned in their own jails of hate and not able to walk my slowed walk into hidden valleys of green pastures and trying to regain my strength while murmuring those songs that nerve ended at the crossing of their rivers. To stop my wanderings to reach the misted distant shores To dress my body with the foams of the coasts bathed from savage oceans populated by sirens served by crazed and lost sailors at sea...to accept the fantastical notion of a new beginning...hope and happiness back into my life as the new feathers upon my broken and tattered wings...forgetting the way I have lived since I had left them with their own accusations ...I am not afraid of my loneliness .Nor I want to be a better man ...this is who I conceive myself now; One with sorrows with dried tears, unafraid of the silence threatening me with a welcoming death waiting after every step I take into my cavernous imposed bitterness and long everlasting of sadness.