Pathways

One road leads backwards   to a heartless past,
the path not joyless, but gravel-strew, sharp,
where bloodied feet leave a crimson trail
that sears its way into a hapless heart.

The second, a dreary trudge, unmarked
through narrow and winding lanes,
knowledge of loss a beastly burden,
a mindless sojourn into taverns dark.

And in between, a Golden Highway, beamimg bright
yet marked with shady patches that ignite
a soul-destroying rage in mind or heart,
like snapping street digs following starnger's plight.

And the last, half hidden in undergrowth
a path so remote that few dare
to tread, save ascetics and the insane
who crave no earthly joys or gains mundane
but walk as somnambulists, unknowing of worth.