Setting one foot in front of the other down this path, lichen grows on my limbs and I cackle a laugh.
The voices said I would never make it this far, well I’m not going to be any great rock star.
I’ll crawl over the mud and moss to reach the end, despite the legions of demons that you send.
From down here I smell the scent of the earth, and you thought it was some kind if curse.
Nature’s soul breath, in my lungs, so much confusion about how it begun.
I’m at peace with path that I’m on, I’m going, going … Gone.
D Jan 2017