Right Path

A little bit of wind,

is uprising behind me,

like a breath,

of no one, to be seen.

It's a cold wind,

from far away,

like from where my heart,

is waiting for me.

I'm faded to many,

but yet I still see myself,

when I pass near a mirror,

seeing a shadow of what I was.

I'm covered in smoke,

I'm closed in a jail,

of unwilling power,

in a dark house of mirrors.

Everything seems scary,

everything seems calm,

an equilibrium in this realm,

a world lost out of me.

Where would I be,

if one many times,

I haven't failed my way,

searching the right path.