We walk in moments of peace
Stars surrounding
A clear and bright path
We feel enchanted
We walk mostly
With our own footsteps
Faulting even
The hollow ground
We walk without purpose
Without the hope we expect
Privileged by the stories
We thought were destined
We walk through those tales
What our dreams would be
The future promising
From detailed theory
We walk without a plot
Without the cast we had known
We walk many different paths
Without choosing...
Alone
We would wish to walk
Guided by lightning bugs
Innocent we reach
Knowing where to go
We walk
Clouds blanketing us
Blind we trip
Over just ourselves
We walk walk a path
In which we choose
Not knowing the outcome
Of what we may lose
We walk a path
In which we may keep
Not knowing if the changes
Are worth more
Than our current repeat
We walk a path
That is which our own
We walk from tomorrow onward
We step on so many stones
We walk in directions
Fearing each path and way
We continue to always walk
After our bodies no longer stay
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem