The Road That Led to Nowhere

I walked a path both long and bare,

A winding trail through silent air.

Each step a question, bold, unclear,

Each mile wrapped in doubt and fear.

The map I held was torn with age,

Its lines were faded, like a page

Of stories told, then cast away,

A fragile guide to light my way.

No signs appeared to mark my course,

No whispers came to quell remorse.

Yet still I wandered, lost in thought,

Chasing something I’d never caught.

The road was endless, rough, and wild,

Each turn a lesson, sharp but mild.

A voice inside began to speak,

Not of answers, but what to seek.

It said, “This path is yours to make,

Not every turn’s a grand mistake.

The road to nowhere often leads

To growth, to strength, to planted seeds.”

So here I stand, at last aware,

The journey’s gift was always there.

The road to nowhere, winding, free,

Was leading me back home to me.