Out of all the paths

I pick the one that is mine

and jealously guard it from attacks

by reason or sentiment:

Even the steady voice of love

grows silent in the presence

of this self sustaining will

straining to break brittle shackles,

striving to be free in the unknown,

lost in the mist

raised by inevitable uncertainty.

Out of all the paths

I walk alone now,

the conflicts fading into nothingness,

leaving a vast capacity

filled with an awesome emptiness.

I could sit along this gulf

through all the nights of summer

reliving my happy youth:

a child lost in play.

Then hearing a familiar hail

I turn to find in the chilling air

a future impossible to forget.

And like a resolute soldier

departing home and family for war

I leave behind dreams uncompleted;

loose ends of rich potential

now waiting in a dying breeze:

And like a true soldier

I find pride before courage,

and courage before knowledge,

and death before peace.