Beads of sweat formed at his forehead as he continued to carry his heavy load. His shoulders crying in pain, stiffness shooting through his arms; but on he continued battling through.

Rain bit down on his worn skin. Skin that told tales of a long life lived. A life with many stories.

People looked on as he made his way down the road. But none ran out to help him. 

This was a journey that he had to make on his own. 

The road seemed to go on as if forever, but this did not faze him. He would continue to the very end. Nothing would stop him. 

On he marched. His footsteps leaving temoprary tattoos in the newly lain rainfall. 

His belly grumbled. Alerting him to his evergrowing hunger. But this would not make him stray from his path.

He had made a promise. And this promise he would keep. 

So on he marched. The purpose of all of this danced in his mind. Propelling him on.

And on he would continue. Until he reached what he was looking for. Until he met his goal.


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