Zywa
Single track
Who can I ask
to go with me
behind me on a single track
of false hope, genuine hope
against my better judgement
on the way for too few
meagre minutes to celebrate together
but still time that I don't want to miss
even if it does not offer what I wish?
The little trod paths
will be as well a dead-end
as the short way into the mists
that stun you and increasingly
take the view of the mountains
the balding mountains away
I don't want to stand still, I walk around
looking out for a new path
a magical path of life
that I, stumbling and slipping
over the sharp stones if need be
want to clear where it is not
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