I am running down the path. Tripping on a root I tumble. Instead to to the path return, I continue to crash through the brush. Delirious I wander away further from the clean good path. Crashing through the briars and brush, my flesh is torn away. In the darkness I cannot see the dangers of the lake, cliff, and beasts. A light shine through the dark. Thinking it to be an illusion, I move away. I crash into a tree, pain shooting through my body. I give up. I am lost and don't know what to do. My new concussion makes the light hurt. Taken by the arm, I am then carried to the path. The light no longer hurts. The pain is gone away. The house I am in is perfect. I am overwhelmed. I feel like singing for joy.
YOU ARE READING
One Last Star
PoetryThe future only comes with the overcoming the past. I write these with a emotional, spiritual and personal meaning. I leave the interpretation and speculation to the reader.
