My Stroll Through Isolation
I walk blindly into a room, so dark and desolate
The ceiling black, it is the dead of night
The door slams behind me, locking in my fear
A man, woman, and child enter,
And, aimlessly begin searching
The walls are adorned with what appears to be objects
They feel like questions with an answer still unknown
A path stems from behind an object, also absent of light
No one follows me, without fully knowing the route
Alone I blindly walk through the unknown,
The path has unique features bumps, drops and cobwebs.
The path isn’t really rough, but neither is it smooth
The paths seem familiar, knowing the craziness of the thought
Some paths end at their beginning, Some seem to never end.
Some are actually circles, providing no progress when complete
Only one ends in the presence of a bright and welcomed light.
Few will reach the path ending in enlightenment. Many more:
will die on theses paths, never discovering the correct route.
Copyright © Anthony Guccia | Year Posted 2016
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