The Path

in poetry •  4 years ago  (edited)

Weary was the path,
That for a moment I thought,
It was God's wrath.

On the Rocky lane of destiny I walked,
Silent, as only nature talked;
In a harsh voice,
Every hill seemed a punishment for my wrong choice.

Still I walked length after length
And i was nearing my last breath.

It was only then that I gave up and admitted I was lost,
lay down and prayed God should take a way my ghost.

But he kept me breathing,
To listen to life's agonic rhythm,
That I may to others,
Sing to the same song,
And teach them while tempted,
To be strong

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