As I traveled,
I must've left a trail always behind.
I know not this, for sure.
I could not stop.
And I could not go on like this, I knew this.
I knew I would collapse under exhaustion, under the road.
Something happened,
but not with purpose.
Trail vanished.
The road came to an end. 
I quess,
what I left behind,
disappeared, maybe buried under the every year reneving foliage.
I hope.
...or to someones pocket?