The Wind Across the High Plains

The road feels a thousand miles long, stretching into the distance
along a deserted field.
Dead twisted trees line the path, grey clouds sit grumbling overhead
and the chinks of light that break through the clouds only seem to warn
you to stop and go back.

But I have to go on, because as hard as it seems, as easy as it is to
stop and rest, I may never wake up…