The path of life, uneven with fog,
with pits and traps, deserts and bog,
The lengthy road, you walk alone,
The twisting way, the end unknown,
with time immortal, fast and slow,
neither hastes nor drags, but by it’s own flow,
we trudge onward, not knowing the end,
until to our graves, life does send.
With our weak flesh and dense bone,
We walk the path of life alone,
We pass through trials, fiery and long,
Rejoice and repent, for our right and wrong,
Watching our bodies, wither and die,
and our own life, trickling dry,
but as the sun, still shines bright
We have yet, to end our fight.
Hello Sunda- wait what? It’s nearly Monday?? Goodness me, must be the effects of relativity when I have a spot of free time.
Anyway, Here is a little poem I wrote in August of 2013, about Life. It can be perceived to be a rather negative view, but I don’t think it’s incorrect. I feel that a deeper meaning could be drawn from it, but that all depends on the mood and mindset of the reader. I leave thee to ponder upon it,
Until next time,