Endless Road

Endless Road



Nothing is beginning.
The strings of purpose,
of drive, of narrow ambition;
all pull and twist us
onto the road with no end.

Nothing is moving.
We dance to the tune
of voices, the voices
that laugh and rage
to the many turns of that road.
That road with no end.

Nothing is struggling.
Our minds shriek at the sight,
the sight of past hopes,
forgotten dreams, and
broken promises. Our minds
stretch at the thought,
the thought of that road,
that road with no end.

Nothing is dying.
The clarity of no time,
of all time, of staying along
that endless road. We run,
we dance, we walk, we crawl,
always on that road.
The road that has no end.