The path ahead looks treacherous.
The trees above insanely immense.
There’s no end in either sight.
But there must be an end, right?
A present ruled by an unknown fear,
An opaque future, never quite near.
And yet, we all move forward.
Skipping gayley toward.
Sometimes light hits the right step.
Next a stumble in a black abyss.
Move because of ego.
Move because you can’t let go.
Move because of true confidence.
Movement masquerades as cowardice.
Move since we don’t know any better.
Just another shark in the water.
Exhausted from swimming, terrified to stop.
Push and persevere, squinting at the tree top.
One day we’ll get there and find clarity.
Or at least that’s what I keep saying to me.
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