I am a weary traveler, alone

Dying in this land of sinful actions

Seems like I cannot make it out

Out of the sand

Choking on mists

The mists that surround me

And rake at me

Choking on it

Disillusioned am I

And forever heading into it

Never will I turn back

Shunned from normal

Exiled away from cynical

Only left to be individual

I am a weary merchant, to trade

Bartering life's unwanted miseries

For ones of happiness

Rid of your sins

Get out of the mists

That kill your essence

And agent of the desert, I am

To you I bring all

All that was once lost

In the hands of the ancient

Were unable to grasp certain concepts

Letting everything go

Letting go

Into the depths of sand

I am a weary rancontuer, to tell

Sharing stories of past strife

Letting know of coming dangers

And killing fear of death

Death stalks us

Unable to escape it

We will never be rid of it

Always follows

Until we lie at it's feet

Begging for mercy in the shadows

Lying patiently

In the dark

Silence surrounds

We will never be alone