On the road ahead, one of my own choosing,
I know already, the way will be tougher than most.
Not just because of the rising landscapes to come,
But for the time alone, almost no-one to meet.
Of course passing through there will be people,
On whom I hope to share the days ahead, with.
But few will be walking alongside me to Santiago,
Other routes becoming popular, this road so quiet.
So I pray for help in the tranquility of solitude,
That I leave despair behind me, in Zamora.
I'm told of the beauty this walk will bring,
So will be in paradise, even if I'm alone.
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