A deep sideline
dug like a valley.
I rest there for now
no returning to point A.
The road less traveled
though it be full of holes
is a comforting strain
to the aches in my body.
To say sorry to yourself
for all the things done,
allows you to admit
the bleak road of the traveler.
Your bleak road.
We all feel pain
we all know suffering
we can't change this
unceasing fact.
How we walk our road
is up to us.
For no willingness,
allows you to lazily accept death.
Bliss comes from oblivious
oblivious is the root to numb.
Pain only forsees.
-Taken from Σ April 17, 08 blog entry.
© Sigma 2008
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