Path Chosen

I walk down that well worn path.
I trip over the obscurities just like the rest.
It seems neverending.
I can take it slow or run, plunging blindly ahead.
I bleed from the knicks recieved from my falls.
I cry when hopelessness settles in.

There are shadows that may be found, waiting to beckon.
Waiting for the despaired with their promises of bliss on forked tongues.
Some may fall for their clever gesters, not I.
Curiousity and stubbornness compels me further.

Eventually I learn this road, it's rhythm becomes my own.
No more falls.
The shadows fear my determination.
No longer do they use clever words.
They reach out with desperate claws of sorrows.

I may bleed but I will not falter.
I will reach the end of this path.
This life is mine.
I grasp it.
I mold it.
Mine.