Pitch black room,
Thick foggy air,
Make your way through
Not knowing what's there.
Steady breaths
And a heavy heart,
No time for rest,
This is only the start.
The end will come soon,
Your soul will bare
No more burdens in you
And no more despair.
This trial is a test,
A chance to practice your art
At not following the rest,
But following your heart.
Continue on to
Clearing the air,
As you walk through,
With a composed glare.
-Roxy
