another road
unwinds
and another path
hides itself.
the lonely wanderer
cannot seem to think
for their eyes
are shut
tightly closed
and nothing is clear
when you cannot see
when you cannot focus
when you cannot balance.
the hidden path
seems to be the one
this wanderer deems worthy
but with no sight
the path becomes nothing
but a legend
or a memory.
nothing but a bed time story
to keep children awake at night,
wondering if they
may come across this path.
