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An Inauspicious Path
As I look back on the torrent winds of the fate that mars my mind.
Back at the measured erosion of my convictions.
Back at the losing elements of my loving drive to conquer.
Back on the relationships that drown in a river of tears.
A river of tears that precariously became a barren desert to my soul.
Back on the temptest of my sins.
Now through the secretive forest of time do I see the inauspicious path I've traveled.
I have succumbed to my fate and do not have any more sessions of dreams being a righteous conqueror.
No more sessions of dreams to be a righteous anything.
Feeble is my spirit as I continue my travel down this inauspicious path.
No longer shall I allow myself to sniff at the fragrance of hope.
No longer shall I allow myself to look at the sun through ill-omened branches.
A baleful and ominous future I do embrace, for my passion for life is bleak as I move swiftly down this inauspicious path.
Copyright January 21, 2017
Copyright ©
Mary E.W. Stephenson
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