optimism flows through your blood as your head hang low and
the lonely road walked led down the path of insignificance,
for the only real outcome would be an endless array of pains;
while the path covered in green from side to side spirals through
the horrid forest in which turns into a world of confusion.
the foreign world is an extinction of past life torn to a mere nothing
while the relevance to your life lies a thin line of complications,
but the tragic feeling is just a déjà vu until you realize something
has occurred to make you feel so empty and weak…so paralyzed.
when you see the roses lie flat and the plants crumbled and withered,
you finally see the end of the path and acceptance has emerged,
for new hope remains evident.