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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1251029-Lost
Rated: E · Other · Mystery · #1251029
Inspired by a walk on a rainy and lonely day.
I wander alone. I walk through trenches of water and ice. The trees bend towards me, and the wind creeks with disdain. No one is comfortable, yet no one wonders why. My surroundings are of little significance to me, as I have walked this path so may times before. Still, today everything is different.
I am freezing but I crave not warmth. The only thing I want, I know I can’t have, yet I continue to blindly search for it. Death would not stop me from this. What is it?
You. I desire, I long for you. Will you even be there if I reach my destination? Do I have a destination? My memory fails me. Am I dreaming? I hadn’t thought so. I hadn’t thought so when I set out. But with every cold drop of rain that hits my numbing face, I become more uncertain. What do I know? What did I know then? I know I am alone, that may be all I know. I am walking, but towards what? I may not find it.
I come to a fork in the road. It asks me a simple question, right or left? I cannot answer, I walks straight. The forest may be easier walking then the road, anyway. What road?
We spent thousands of years building what we thought was society, what we thought was life, but with one breath from them, one sweep of their hand, it may all be destroyed. Where do I come from? Will it be there when I get back? I cannot leave my path, though I know I will find nothing, there is nothing to find. With every step I take I tell myself I am getting closer to you. Are you even there? Have I been betrayed?
DId I even deserve the honesty I thought I once had? What I need is confidence. You once gave me confidence, when we were together. When was I with you? Was it yesterday? Was it in a past life?
I walk. The wind hisses at me and the drizzling rain threatens to spit the fury of forgotten life. “Go home,” it tells me.
I keep walking. I don’t know if my home is still there, but home is the only place I would not dare go right now. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know where you are, but I know you are not at home.
© Copyright 2007 Rosamund Hawkins (musiclover5 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1251029-Lost