My eyes are heavy, drawn into the ground.
Moisture gathers, forms a drop on my nose.
Knackered, bowed and kneeling, I knit my brow
and wonder where the unknown, west road goes.
When I raise my hanging head, I feel for
the strength to rise up, stand and carry on.
I have looked inwards to see through the fog
because the signs that guide me have gone.
It is a struggle to walk in the mud,
Whilst cold and weary, with my clothes sodden.
My thoughts are hazy but a strong heart should
not fail me. My faith is not forgotten.
Aimlessly dragging hope alongside despair,
a feeling leads me, I do not know where.