Bedraggled. Empty. Worn and cast down.
Or cast out.
Never knowing
If the steps you're taking are before or behind you,
Though you furnish yourself with countless devices.

Trying in vain
To gather the scattered pieces
Of the many worlds you've left.
But the trail is ever behind you,
Reminding you.

The mountain range you're riding
Never seems to cease.
So many ups and downs
And just-around-the-corners
That continually come but never get you there.

You just want this to end;
To be done
Or run away.
You say there's no way,
And that nobody knows.
Even if they did, they wouldn't care or understand.

But dear, what you don't know,
Is that we've all been there before,
And everyone,
If they have a brain,
Can tell you

This too will pass.