Sand Dunes

This place, is not my image of absolution, its one of the many checkpoints; there’s a journey yet ahead. On a stage filled with lush vegetation and liquidated soil, I feel at peace. As cool as whiskey on the rocks, this domain oozes of hospitality. Tempted to pitch a tent and call this home, but my mind tells me otherwise. This is not my full potential, I deny the thought; the fog of war still lingers above the darkest recesses in this barren wasteland. There is still more to explore, I owe it to myself and those who believe in me to unveil every nook and cranny that this place has to offer. I look back at my place of rest and wonder if its all worth leaving. Does all I hope to achieve truly lie somewhere within the sand dunes?

Lacerations well placed on my face, sandstorm grains doing what they do best. As I push forward with nothing but hope as my guide. A collective mirage of dreams, uneven in nature like the given terrain. Back-tracking through my withered journals. Flipping pages soiled by fragments of the desert; the earth’s idea of a joke, giving a whole new meaning to sand paper. Triangulating my position, give it time, success may be in the next step.

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