Tracing Tracks

Staring at the majestically sinewy track,

A restive follower dropped his empty sack.

Glancing at the uncommonly wide-eyed crack,

Commoners dropped him nothing to stack.

.

The world is semi-permeable to the questioning gaze,

Asking some to beg more and seldom laze,

Answers to life are gravely set ablaze,

As buildings of doubt are set to raze.

.

He showed no grace with a grieving heart,

Relaxing his muscles to do his part,

His life starts with an open heart,

To the foibles of the world in a heavy cart.

.

The ashes with the winds are blowing,

Of all things dead and thoughts glowing,

Charred to the depths of the soul flowing,

The ashes are set in a handsome bowing.

.

The eyes of the passers ineffectively looked,

Going about their chores blindly hooked.

There isn’t the usual irritant beseechingly booked,

Inflicting his squint on their plans cooked.