I'm coming back
From traversing the land
I've been burnt for lack
Of paper and sand.
I have talent for fear
From learnt fairy tales
I've naught shed a tear
O'er my oft sought travails.
I have some scars
From travels unveiled
I've written to lyres
Of paths been derailed.
I remember fright
From a half-hidden fault
I've forgotten spite
Of the half-buried salt.
I'm coming back
From traversing the land
I've been left for the fact
Of wanton demand.