Paths
Countless paths I have wandered, seeking for myself the things
I once honored, Wealth, glory and fame.
But the paths you choose are fickle things, they twist and turn till you walk into the
flame; Now the falme it is a paradox, it scorches your flesh, but it chills your bones.
I turned to flee, to seek my home, but twisted paths have no sympathy. I was lost
and all alone. Then I glimpsed a distant glimmer, a tiny light shining through my
window; I fixed my eyes on that tiny light and followed it through the dark, and
stormy night.
Finally when I drew nigh the door, my Father stepped out and caressed me tight; I
pleaded with my Father to take me back and he said. Hush my wandering child, for it
was I who sent you the light.
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