I once journeyed upon an empty path,
An tortuous road by a fleeting river,
Whose relentless babbles of bygones wrath
Gave no remembrance, but a raw shiver.
Among the path greeted treaded roots, with
Treacherous imprints under the falling
Sun’s glare. The river continued to writhe
And froth, sputter non-sense sick appalling.
But still I remained steadfast in my stride,
Lest Fear hears itself in my racing pulse.
For as long as I walk, the stream shall chide
Loud indifference, enmity, and repulse.
Since I know well the end will near, upon
A hill over-looking past, winding dawns.