Life

Your path will lead you home.

Pitter patter of feet against the mud,

Stemming from the slowly receding flood

That washed away my home and fate,

But the path I walked was never straight.

 

Life is a road of many directions,

And every choice blocks off another selection;

But as one path ends another begins,

No two trails are paralleled twins.

 

The roads we travel will twist and turn,

Flowers and plants and mosses and ferns

Will sprout from the earth with each step we take,

Even when we think our lives are mistakes.

 

For beauty is created from the saddest of things,

And even the darkest of shadows can give us our wings.

Author's Note

Fun fact: this is incredibly old and when I wrote this I didn't even know what a sonnet was, I just liked the format. Normally I don't write poetry with a set meter or rhythm scheme anyway, so that's probably why this one is a little wonky.