The Journey Of Beaten Men Poem by Raven Syke

Silent road trip
To which there is no end
No sway in your hip
No crease in the bend

Straight ahead
The old road leads
Dragged are my feet of lead
As I plant my flower seeds

Blossom in my wake
As I turn my back
Bloom, crackle, break
Sorrow and despair it doesn't lack

Whethered and dead,
This old country road,
Best watch your head
And your burdenous load

Dark are the shadows
On either side
So are the hollows
Underneath your eyes

Each step is swallowed
By this lone dirt path
Each painful breath borrowed
As you hear death laugh

No hope for the wicked
No end to agony
No cure for the sickened
This journey is Eternity