Over roads of yore, beyond the yonder,
I walk; fate’s lines crawling beneath my feet.
Which way, you ask, as though I knew.
I only sojourn the forsaken lands,
Clothed in myths of the living
and memories of the dying.
Where to, I ask thee,
for in a dream, we dream again:
of lives once lived,
of a reality unblemished,
of illusions that reward us for believing.
LatinosUSA 
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