Walking.
Just been walking.
Following a road that was chosen by many,
many who have failed to comprehend this path.
Walking.
Feels more like a dream than reality.
Planting steps that are nor firm, nor secure.
Steps that are simply what they are:
Steps.
Numbness that goes side by side
with each of these.
That helps me follow this road,
though I not know if it ends.
Others,
I've come across other roads.
Each crossing filled with a morbid feeling.
A feeling that perhaps my path isn't right.
A dreadful feeling,
that perhaps I'll never know what the truth is.
Being the pilgrim blinded by faith.
Whose faith is lost with every step,
gained with every thought,
yet never fully extinguished.
I'll be the man walking
this defined yet undefined path,
that bears no true name.
This road
that might not be a road,
But simply a labyrinth
with no exits.
YOU ARE READING
Darkened
Poetry"Walks there the girl of the constant weep, tears shed at night by a girl who never sleeps" *** Collection of poems for all who believe in feelings. *** 2nd Place Winner in the Pheonix Awards
