He walked for a whole year

He walked for a whole year
Through a great desert
He died of thirst
But he got up again
He died of hunger
But he got up again
He died in his sleep
But he got up again

Then on the very last hour of his journey
A great yellow horse came to him
Now he rides towards the great ocean
Where the white gloves of the angry clouds
Grasp the rocks and the sand of the shoreline
And hurl them like spit through the air

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