The Worn Path of Souls

Years of darkened toil marked the sacred ground

A path worn deep through the forest of humanity

Countless heavily burdened souls trudged step by step

Each footprint a legacy of despair and hurt

Through the meandering forest filled with sorrow and pain

Leaves from the trees littered the ground

Like tears fallen from the eyes of a ten-thousand heart-wrenching struggles

The dank moist air reeked of hopelessness

The brightest of days did nothing to dispel the darkness

Snippets of light and hope teased those

Who found themselves desperately coping to exist

Within a forest of unhappiness and self-doubt

Winter to spring to summer and to fall

The path got deeper and wider after each passing foot-step

Memories of pain and heartache a melancholy awakening

To an existence teetering on oblivion

Mile after mile the path recorded every painful episode

A sober reminder to those who chose to dwell

Where the forest of sorrow and pain takes no prisoners

Knowing we are all hostages lost in the wilds of insecurity

The passing of millenia eroded life within the artery of sorrow

Sunlight and air vanished into a vacuum of bleak

Life and living reduced to debris and rubble discarded

Along the forest floor trampled by the next casualty

Life is a precarious knife-edge between hope and anguish

Wooden planks hide the scars along the avenue of pain

A cosmetic covering of living within a jungle of doubt

One we all march seeking salvation