Untiltled Travelling Poem

"Untitled Traveling Poem" By Marcus Cooke

Wet feet canvas the morning due
as the first rays of sunlight
gently cascade of my naked chest,
the nap sack of my shoulder
weighs me down with guilt
my destination unknown
foundations yet to be built.
 
I came across a signpost
kneeling on the damp grass
this weary traveler
realizes that the sign post
tells me not just where I'm going
but where i have been
where i come from
and where i will be.
 
My moral compass  
points west and  
west i will go
west is the best
if your in the know,
the north was grim
the abyss there
was smiling
the beast in the east
was devouring when driving,
But know one knows
where this broken road goes
that's kind of the point
when you go with the flow.