By: Matt Billas
Darkest night, starless sky.
Even the moon refuses to bestow its reflection.
Donned in nightcap and gown, he wanders aimlessly.
An endless corridor.
Candle in hand, but faint, hopeless light.
Fragile wick, wax pools.
Sand cascading in an hourglass, the second-hand ticks.
Each footstep a risk, potential peril.
The brink of disaster, or the edge of glory?
Memories are fleeting,
Past steps long behind.
A shallow glimpse of what remains.
What lies ahead?
A journey with no destination.
Eyes on the prize,
But where is the trophy?
Darkest night, starless sky.
The long corridor awash in shadow.
Yet the flame lingers; holds.
Light shallow but persisting.
Echoes of past footsteps though fleeting, reverberate.
No guarantee of future success.
No promise of triumph.
No end in sight.
But risk is opportunity.
Darkness may obscure the end, but I step nonetheless!