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.
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