The Path

use of real for metaphor

I make way with my travel.

I head back to a place I’ve been once before

My memory of this trip is a fuzz

I know not what lay ahead before me

But I know I must make this trip

 

A faint glint of this path that I had taken before

I travel it, just as if it was yesterday

As I roam upon this road.

I know there are many twists and turns

Yet here I am, going about the path

 

It once was a path of no return,

Yearning in my bones for a change

The path is now weathered and grown

It would feel creepy and spooky for others

But not I. It is just a part of the past.

 

As I see the eerie of the night with the stars

The stars are beaming through the tree limbs

As the light of the night shines through

The barren trees with fallen leaves

This path of mystery of a life once lived

 

So, I dance with the past, it is a part of me

The task of the path that was so ever daunting

Yet, I found the moon, it was full and ever so beautiful

I could finally make a way through to the other side

Thankful and grateful to pass the pains that were left behind