All the different ends
I’m walking on this path, the first path I found when I woke up that day.
As I’m walking I pass many other paths, some I can peer down and see to the end and their ends are beautiful, blue gold in a breezy light.
Others are twisted and dark and I can’t make out their ends.
So I walk my path, the one I found when I woke up, too afraid and hopeful to veer off.
Eventually my path ends, and I stand in the desert.