With dry eyes and a troubled heart, he loved to watch the road pass by.
The only fear is in arriving not of floating in limbo.
The weightless limbs of decision helpless, and grasping.
Soon swarmed by familiar strangers,
they should just keep moving.
Why have they chosen the frozen stillness of a certain street?
Where past and future are fertile,
but the moment has vanished.
With dry eyes and a troubled heart, he loved to wave goodbye,
And again to watch the road pass by.

Souls of Liberty