The Path I Walk

The Path I Walk

My maker painted the path I walk,

With colors of dreams and whispers of grace.

Each step I take, each breath I speak,

Is guided by hands that time can’t erase.

Yet in the quiet of the painted trail,

A shadow lingers, soft and wide.

Though the path is bright, the footsteps pale,

It’s often lonely where my heart resides.

The sun may rise, the stars may fall,

But in the silence, I hear no call.

Not of others, but of dreams untold,

A road to follow, yet never quite whole.

Still, I walk, though the way may be long,

For in the solitude, I find my song.

Each step I take, though fleeting, still true,

For the path I walk is made for me—

And no one else.