Upon the trail, I will tread
Hoping that the darkened avenue
Will conceal the fears that I have fled
Feeling upon my chest the tempest beat accrue

Floundering to gasp my escaping breathes
I toil through the depths and groves
That time’s hand sheathes
Questioning anew my past roves  
    
Knowing that within the question lays the truth
Shall I not search the woeful past?
To expose the crestfallen forsooth
That has amassed

Finding upon the grains of time the paths I took
I wonder if regret would be etched upon the decisions I mistook