The Road

I'm told the road is long and dark,

It's cold and weighs upon the heart,

A bitter, grey and ceaseless rain,

Belittered with regret and pain.

It winds in bleak disquietude,

And binds each one in solitude,

One wonders when the storm may end,

As thunders rend the soul again.

And borne our tears 'pon hollow wind,

So worn we are who are chagrined,

For thoughts of whence it all may lead,

Distraught, we wander as we plead.

For light to break the dismal grey,

And night no longer hold its sway,

Yet step 'pon step the storm shall rage,

Tis the sorrow of the age.

And lo, I pass, or reach the end,

The road will be my dearest friend.