The woods grow deeper as a walk
and I can see for miles
there is no light at the End
and all I can do is look at the path behind me.
I can't bring myself to turn back
but neither can I move forward
and the sweet taste of life leaves my mouth
like the lost taste of a lover's lips.
I do not miss this taste of life
but I would not scorn it's return.
At least I am able to sit,
and rest,
and enjoy the fruit's of nature
until a breeze lift's me up
and I continue on this trail
until I reach the end
and lose the taste again.