The Ancient Path

A structured poem.

I walk a path, so long its end's forsaken,
I walk alone, no else the toll have taken,
I walk with pride, my head held high
but in my step, you hear a sigh,
the price, indeed, is high,

 

And on this path, I've walked for long,
And on this path, I've been alone,
I'm parched, and starved and lonely too,
Yet I must walk, I know this true
This is, all that I do.

 

I've walked for weeks, I've walked for years,
And now, I'm weak, from dried out tears,
I fear to cave, under this mass,
for I, must walk this ancient pass,
I'm tired… But can't rest.

 

So I've been taught, so I have heard,
so I believe! An honored word!
But is it so? Can't I just rest?
Just for a sec'? To pause my quest?
The questions are a pest

 

 An age since then, another passed,
and found a man, frozen in rest,
The man just sighed, and shook his head,
then walked back from, the "resting" dead,
So close to reach the end.
Oh! So close to reach the end.