It is oft down the path of the lost
that they were found.
Trees scrabbling ancient passageways
dust covering what’s fallen.
Just one tiny drip dropping
remembers dew drops on eternity.
They crave a hand hold
in the solid dark empty narrowness.
Ominous heart leapings scare
the bravest of sorrows.
But they are courageous
dawn slipping gently through the shadows.
Forever calling your name
they enter paradise for eternity.
Bliss, humanity, what is it?
They have no memory of the fallen.