There’s a path behind a road often traveled by me
alone when I walk through my mind.
On that path, there’s blood stains on gravel
from all the times that I’ve fallen behind.
I’ve tried to walk it, to see where it goes
but once I start treading, I grow weak and go back to the road.
The road is safe and it goes on in a straight line
it doesn’t wind or tempt me with whispers.
But, once I’m back back on it and my feet are in motion
I remember the path and how close it runs to the road.
I’ll trip my way back to the paths winding hollows
and see how far my self will allow me to travel.
This back and forth makes for a slow journey
never quite coming or going, staying or leaving.
The road has other travelers, the path is my secret
only I know it, only I see it, only I can tread it.
I long to know what I will find while following that gravel
or even what will be waiting there for me to battle.
It is filled with mystery, as all dangers are
but if I stay and slay those dark entities will I leave scarred?
Or, will I leave bold and knowing in the end
that I finally found what was around all those bends?
I step towards it now, my feet crunch down
I shiver and hold tight for the waves to come.
The waves of fear that hollow me out
twisting inside me, a whirlwind of gutting doubt.
The doubt to go ahead and figure it out
to keep moving forward and forcing the waves out.
I want to stay, to prove myself worthy, brave, and strong
to be the victor of a battle gone on far too long.
So I begin the walk now, even through the crushing waves
I am lonely, invisible, a slave to the opaque haze.
But with each foot forward, I carve out my place
on a mapless path that is mine to face.