There's no path harder,
Than taking a wrong turn,
And walking,
Where you don't belong.

Every step is a labor,
Each sight is nightmarish,
And you scream,
Inside to turn around.

But them's is the breaks.
Behind is reflection,
Of a path,
Which you can never return.

So all that's left is hoping,
Through blurry eyed madness,
That light in you,
Won't cease to burn.