The Land of Acridity


I entered that foreign twice.
Each time I ate the bitter herbs of that foreign land,
And tasted the the gall of it's torrid rivers.
The pungent dust of the scorched wasteland
Stung my nostrils without mercy.
I stumbled over the treacherous grounds
And walked in the glaring sunlight.
Each time I climbed my way to its mountaintop
And clung tenaciously its cliffs,
Only to fall headlong to its valley floor.
I crawled on my hands and knees,
I cried and prayed, then cursed,
But I failed to conquer that desolate land.
Finally, my faith waned into nothingness,
My heart became inane, and my sorrow unbearable.
Therefore, no matter how enticing the horizon,
I shall be ever chary of that disappointing domain,
And no matter how endearing its call,
I shall always distrust its insidious terrain,
And I shall never again want to go there.

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