Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 22
I walk my path miles away
From all the people,
At night
So that my shadow can't haunt me
With my regrets.
It is a long, long way,
Mostly straight but still unclear,
And the darkness and the isolation are frightening
And beautifully familiar
All at once.

Sometimes I feel as though I am made of stone:
Strong,
But hollow on the inside;
Every step I take
Echoes through me,
Settling into my head and my heart and my soul.
My stone feet are heavy,
And they leave marks
In the dust
As I go along.

Sometimes I think
That I might burn into embers and ashes,
Starting with my fingertips and my toes,
And drift about on the wind.
People will glance at me as I blow past,
And some might notice my absence
In the same way that one notices the absence of leaves
On the trees in winter:
A fugitive thought of what is to come,
And a fleeting memory of what has already passed.

I walk my path miles away
From all the people,
At night
So that my shadow can't haunt me
With my regrets.
It is dark and lonely,
And my feet are stone and my fingertips are burning.
The moon shines
Cold and weary,
And my journey is mostly straight but still unclear.

I consider how far I've come
And how far I've yet to go,
And I continue on my way.
Written by
Julie
112
   BR Dragos
Please log in to view and add comments on poems