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.