The Lone Traveler

It is strange at times When it's your future that haunts, Like unhealed wounds that unleash thoughts Every drop of my past, is etched in my mind. It's not the forgotten, that plagues me the most, it's my bleak future and the price it would cost. There were certain things, that I did not do. Crying over my past that I can never renew It's nugatory to evaluate how much was spent, but it's a genuine gaze through a bridge called the "present" A distant land that I once left cold, to an unknown land in search of gold. I'm not sure about the journey ahead I walk with hope on a flimsy thread If I could ever go back and make some changes, I guess I'd do that and hence you may not read this. Shouldering the future, this lone traveler walks, Even though sightless with stars in his eyes Reminiscing over what lies ahead, The once vibrant land, where memories bled.