Nyyark Posted June 24, 2002 Report Posted June 24, 2002 Stumbled on my path again, On The Path. Again. So difficult to walk All alone ahead and behind. A glance to the side And I'll go blind. For a week. I won't speak For I'm weak. Afraid to fall, Afraid to crawl, Afraid to take A step at all. How is it That can it be When natural existence Worships the cruel angle And what I know Helps him go. How can I be When all I can see And All I know Treading down paths leading down Down in the ground He has all my cards, I'm the one out of suit. Forgetting them isn't an option And I'm too afraid to try and lose I just stumbled on the path again. I long to be in his hand. I wish to be where my friends are Where they all understand Instead I stay and fall Stay and fail Sit and wail This is my success This is my best And I know it will happen If I keep goin' straight I'll stumble on the path again
The Portrait of Zool Posted June 24, 2002 Report Posted June 24, 2002 Finely wrought sadness Frustration, dead wood, dull eyes A right of passage ~Zool~ Ancient, The Pen is Mightier than the Sword. Bard of Terra, Patron Saint of Aspiring Bards. Elder than dirt, more foolish than a jester, able to trip over the smallest logic in a single step. It's... Oh, you know.
Guest Fire Walker Posted June 25, 2002 Report Posted June 25, 2002 I wholeheartedly agree with Zool. Wow, how many times do you hear that? -- Fire Walker -- One of the few... The proud... The pyromaniacs... "What luck for rulers that men do not think." ~Adolf Hitler
Rahsash Geldich Posted June 26, 2002 Report Posted June 26, 2002 Intriguing poem, the way it crosses itself feels like a path itself. I like this ::Applauds::
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