The curtains are up. It has begun...
He takes the road. He feels the weight. He feels the heat. He feels his body. He feels the pain. He feels the stiffness. He feels the sores. He feels the doubts. He feels the stress. He fears the beasts. He feels the fear. He feels the distance. This is no fun. He feels the distance. It's only just begun.
He kept on going. Trying to get there. To the place he missed. He longed to be there. It's a matter of time. Just keep on going. It felt so bland. But he kept on pushing. He'll find a way. Just give it time. You're bound to make it. To the place you missed. You have to make it. To that place you lived.
He feels the distance. He feels the weight. The sun. The heat. The sweat. His feet. The night. The cold. The doubts. The thoughts. It feels impossible. What have I done. It seems impossible. How will it be done.
He's at the crossroads. Decision time. The dreaded moment. Decision time. It kept him up. It kept him frozen. For days and days. It kept him frozen. A choice of life. A choice of strife. A choice to live. Versus the bland. Bland is safe. Bland is good. Better be safe. Better be good.
He hears their voices. Beware. Beware. Do you have a death wish. Beware. Beware. They never tried it. Yet they feared it. But he has a way. He has a way. He sat there waiting. Till it was dark. Waiting for light. To show him past. He kept on waiting. He kept on thinking. What is the point of going bland. What is then the point of all of that.