The Wandering man walks a path, but it is not his own.
Down the road, moving; or does Earth pass underneath.
Days, weeks, months; continuous cycles of Light and Dark.
His goal, beyond the horizon; moving in tandem,
Never closer, never further apart; existing separately.

Solid rock erodes to dust; Nature controls and directs.
Nowhere to call home, no way to get back,
At the mercy of wind and the errant Traveler.

The last day closes; Sadness surrounds them.
Neither in control Nor where they wish.
Together, they give Purpose; meaning to Exist.
Their Journey not willed but a Journey the same.
No longer alone, as a pair they expire; in peace.