The Mirrored Path

A despondent spirit travels the narrow path between two realities One, a mountain top reaching glorious heights, Beauty surrounds shear drops unseen as arbitrary indifference manipulates summit trails. The other, a familiar safe harbor of modest warmth, Shallow in spots and oft swept by waves of fear and intolerance. One gives soaring fulfillment of flesh and ego, Then, in silence, gives way, Dropping to rocks of turmoil far below. The other wraps in peace and safety, Slowly numbing the conscience to joy and pain, Leaving in their place a quiet sense of melancholy resignation. Once started upon, the narrow path offers no rest. Insatiable memories of the mountain call out to the traveler, Proving again mundane life in the safe harbor. Life solely in either realm provides no rescue from its final state. Ignorance offers only the solace of ignorance. Absent that mirror, the traveler is spared only comprehension of its true measure. Run traveler! Damn the safe harbor and hurl yourself toward the prize! Climb again to the mountain top with blind hope your compass. Return then only when your heart is fully and finally crushed, to resume your wretched existence.