We start on this blank empty road.
Dirty and dusty as a small toad,
we press on, to our goal,
A horse that starts as a foal.
And even though it seems so pointless,
Without a plan, leaving it lineless,
Maybe we, just maybe so,
We will reach it very soon.
A mist will then cover our path
And let us all experience its wrath.
On this very day, we set away,
Our weights and dark clouds that get in our way.
Then we let our feet fly over
The barren way that hinders us never
Then we lift them up, carry them through
A course of many hardships and hard syllables too.
As we draw on this white sheet
A land of dark footprints.
People are certainly strange beings, racing each other as if they're freeing
Themselves from a low, if you can just go with the flow.
Then again, their pride goes in
And stretches their faces in a wide grin
Full of ambition and maybe malice
While we watch them with such disgrace
Thunder may crash down and bring us down
And rain will paint our faces a dark murky brown.
But the winds that we will blow, it will come too
And bring us our light that will as well shine on you.
Showing the luster that we could muster,
That can be also pursued by a dreaming hunter.
As we all splatter the sheet
With hues of our bright tints.
One may pass the other and the other will chase too
And the latter will then reach you and he runs over you
And under the clouds you shiver in the rain,
As you bear all the searing pain.
All of us will judge each other for their place in life,
And the latter will have to live on with a stab by a knife,
Sucking away the life
That once twinkled in one's own pair of eyes.
Worn down and broken, and damned as well,
blinded by the searing wind that blew from hell,
A typical tale of despair to hope,
A tale of rags to riches in a different code.
Reaching for the sky that stood so high,
Once so impossibly far since the end was nigh.
Let's draw it out, you and me,
Our hands and feet can move free.
Staggering along on a lonely path,
Continuing to limp along 'till we breathe our last.
Those towering hills we've come to love,
There stands our home standing up above.
The rhythm gets faster, and yet faster,
As we reach the top of this tedious ladder.
As we draw on this soiled ground
Our mishaps from the past.
Mistakes will be always made,
But in time, the scars will fade.
YOU ARE READING
New Folder ▪Drabbles
RandomWelcome to my folder. This is where I dump random story and poem ideas that come into my head. Some might have enough power to spark a full book, however, some doesn't seem just right to me as a full-length story, eventually leaving them as oneshots...
