Poetry

Broken Roads

written by: Mike Basile

Eyes wrench open; breath is heavy.
The feeling is present; I've been here already.
I look around, and stare in confusion,
certainly this all must be an illusion.
For the place is familiar, yet the sites are new.
But as to reasons why, I cannot construe.
What has happened to these illustrious roads?
For Darkness now hides within their folds.
And as I meander down these broken lines,
searching hopelessly for any signs,
I realize that all things are ephemeral.
And that even Gods can be reduced to pebble.
This revelation greatly consoles me,
for what hope did I have of immortality?
None, I would think, in the face of a God,
for it was not among the Titans that I trod.
All things, you see, must come to an end.
So do not hide from what you should befriend.
Relinquish your fears and embrace your fate
because, for all men, Death will await.
So in the end, do not cry for what's not begun,
but rather rejoice in all that you've done.