This is catharsis, every nomad leaves a trail.
To move ahead we leave burdens behind.
You know where the train has been through the rails.
The tracks are for the record.

This place is not yours, you keep moving like the clock's hand.
The traveller's mindset is gold.
We don't build castles on quicksand
We encrypt on bars with poetry, this piece should be timeless.

Earth’s sojourn is for conquests
Toils, sweat, and lots of scars.
Struggles propelled by cold nights; with no aliquot of love. 
Misery has never been more productive. 
How else should the skin be thickened and also used as a blanket? 
Scars should be used well.
They bleed less from repeated fibrosis.

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