Its weird walking through foreign soils
When all you have are memories
Of relics flickering through your mind,
And every corner you think you know
Turns out to be an unknown alcove;
When expected signs and monuments
Are entirely unrecognized and odd.
I find myself seeing ghosts of y’or
Wandering aimlessly just as I,
Who nod to me acknowledgement
As we both carry on our way.
Then just as in a fairy tale,
I come about my senses:
I find my store, I see my pal,
And we’re off to bring the night in style.