Paths XII

There's a point when only you can write about the things you now see,
when the depths of despair are done with you, and have left you listless.
There's a point in a life when you will stand before the endless sea,
and you'll know that what you could have been, was limitless.
Of all the things, of all the people you would not be,
the walls you did not climb, the lines that were prohibited.
All the paths, all the ways, all the days, when you took a knee -
they brought you here, and you, now... the only witness.
The past has left you behind, right? Do you now see?
Just how wrong you can be, just how flawed, and ridiculous
it is to perform your play, and stare straight on into eternity.