Always over the horizon, always further than you can walk in a day, and always beyond the falling dusk of the evening. A yearning for where you have not yet reached and will, perhaps, never reach. This hopeless destination, this dream of mist, fantasy of fog. But really, you will be more likely be discovered by archaeologists of the future, a bog-human, exhumed and examined.
Where were you going? Why?
Why? Lost.