Desperately the fellow runs ~ in flight from bereavement,
Too many a crowded expanse he has seen depriving the sun,
Clear vistas of seclusion are all he wants and craves.
“My line has lived to long I say!” He cries into the glare,
“No one shall know our existence more, I won’t allow it!”
“In valley deep to mountain high I fear they creep at me...”
“Why me, why me… explain it to me, why me ~ I say, why me!”
“I’m no hero, I’m not special, and nothing to offer have I!”
Arriving in the midst of night the man goes into hiding,
Afraid that found he will be, he moves from place to place.
His only friend – himself, in seclusion he flees the debris.
Never stopping ~ forever running, his movements erratic to an art.
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