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The Road by QuentixStarwing

The Road

The place that is walked so often
Where whispers become one thing abandoned
Heaven has never looked so sweet
Nor has it been the place that I would greet
A palce to walk is what a road is
Not to find a final edge of restful placation
Such cannot be the location of one's choice
That which cannot be the outcome of placement
Thine pressure and presence cannot be mollified
Only understdoo and embraced by a wise populace
Tis this heart which brings each step more strength
Each pose some more power and even more to the gift ridden
Such is to spy
Barren is the search for methods
What a place
That is grace
When knowing lace
This which is called the Road.

The Road

QuentixStarwing

20 May 2015 at 09:52:37 MDT

Finding a place to be, never with a steady spot to consider, Each step becomes easier to take. Soon there is no one place to remain. If only due to the sacred push of the mind, the soul, the thoughts, and driving forces of people. Will there ever be a single place to stop? Such depends upon what one will make of life in the world, take that home to the bank, of your mind, perhaps spirit, or body?

What will you make of this madness? Beats me, enjoy the read. =)

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