The Pilgrim
There, somewhere yonder, I have to go
It looks like a long and arduous journey,
A fear brewing in the pit of my stomach
Yet with sore feet, a bruised spirit
and dogged by a dubious dilemma,
Go, I must—Where to? I do not know!
The road is straight and clear ahead
The destination is nearly in sight—
Then why, why do my feet falter?
I see no one around
It’s quiet and lonesome
The sun is directly overhead
beating down with vengeance
There are no trees to afford restful shades…
Should I make a dash for it
Or, stroll leisurely toward my destiny?
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