My Walk

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  • Lost Love

    My Walk

    This walk is long
    it leaves me exhausted
    There are so many paths
    which is right?
    mentally drained
    physically beat
    i trek on through
    i walk this road alone
    she waits at the end
    once i clear the threats
    she will be waiting
    i like it this way
    it keeps her safe
    if i walk the right road she sits at the end
    i choose the wrong
    and she's long gone
    the path is clear
    the blood is dry
    where is my babe?
    where is my love?

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    In science one tries to tell people, in such a way as to be understood by everyone, something that no one ever knew before. But in poetry, it's the exact opposite.

    Franz Kafka (1883-1924) Czech writer.

    SoulRebel’s Poems (4)

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