Another attempt at prose…
Walking down this lonely darkened road, a familiar pathway trodden down upon just a yonder ago. I see the signs that this road held last year, which led me down a future that I’ve made past with, home to battle scars and fear.
Looking closely into the signs I see and ponder, should I let them lead me where I was last, or should I stop to investigate the footprints in the sand. Should I inquire from the only soul in sight, a man that’s tall and dark, yet not dark as night.
Oh this familiar path, it haunts me, so much so that my nights are ever cruel. Every time I trudge along way of the dark, the cold, it mocks me with eerie taunts and I weep with reddened tears aloud.
Drawn in magnetism to the bleak end of the road, drenched in sudden solemn “Turn away”, my conscience calls. But the smog almost reels me in with mysterious songs and I hear the evil snickers of promises of being led to where I unduly belonged.
Alone, cold and reeled into the curious cloud of body made of my fears, with it all, down this path I’ll be led. Down it I shall be taken, even to my death bed. For this path, so cruel yet so close to my skin, has become the reason of my only sin.