In the woods, I see a child hurry
The sweet child of misery.
In dark places, he fearlessly goes.
Places where the cold wind blows.
I see him shiver, he’s getting colder.
I ask him to let go the cumber off his shoulders.
He smiles, “There’s not a Boulder,
No rock, no mountain I cannot move!
My only lament, my mind’s getting older.
I had my wings clipped; my dreams they quelled.
Adrift in this chasm I dwell.
I stray at places the sun does not shine at,
Seeking myself a way back.
It’s not only the way I’ve lost, it’s also myself.
Jaded of my own cries for help.”
I sense an agony in the child’s voice.
A sick desperation that wasn’t his choice.
I ask him, “Why do you not put up a fight?
Why not put an end to the sleepless nights?”
He smiles and tells me, “Take a step or two,
In the dark and look within. I’m no-one but you.”

© An Unknown Wanderer