Holy grail on the trail

 I walked out of the mustard stained day
heroically as if I had lived it before

down through short pray leaf shrubs
under the tall eternal night of a valley thick forest canopy

leaf mold and rusty fences that would divide it inside
now just relicky trash

up the other side of the hill to catch a glance at the city
through a clearing I looked down over the land

distant lakes lit up by the sun almost blinding
and scattered little villages

It never was a city

I walked away from the race track ramp
that failed gurus had established as a rite of passage

empty places pull in ghosts
and ghosts are sucked into empty places

a few moments of nostalgia replayed eternally
a few moments of trauma likewise

Those keen slabs of concrete
ghost blood grey

I above the land no road or path ahead
It shocks a lifeless human into vitality
to realize that truly being lost

is the only form of real honesty