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Lemon Black Oct 6
How many lose their way
in woods that stand in grace,
in everlasting silence,
like in a fog shrouded,

that can’t be pierced with eyes
and thickens as you stare,
so wanderers, unaware
of how to cross these parts,
their constant search for signs,
they fear they cannot bear.

Once felt led astray,
they pick up the pace
and turn words to prayer
with inner strength united.

A voice that casts its spells,
to brace, fight, and repel
apparitions and wraiths
that it had just invited,

to make a rightful claim
on what it cannot gain,
as it cannot be lost
by conquered trees and ghosts.

Then back to where it started,
to woods that stand in grace,
in everlasting silence,
like in a fog shrouded.
It's difficult to avoid turning the search for inner peace into an expedition—with packed provisions, marked route, identified challenges, and a backup plan. Having set out on such a journey, we quickly learn that it is impossible to traverse the unknown following established pathways. This might come with frustration, with fear of being lost, only for us to identify and overcome, again. But these victories do not come with the wished rewards, leaving us lost in the woods, again. Until we realize that there is no fog, nor are there trees either, and with this newfound clarity, we can finally follow the way as it unravels.

— The End —