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The Path
God! How heavy the path I trod on earth, How steep the mountain that still looms ahead, How far behind the valley of my birth, How hard the struggle for my daily bread.
A path of sorrows, of pain, and of dread Lined with shadows of death and destruction Where hope brings no joy but despair instead Void of sign posts that provide instruction.
Blindly I walk it but I am not alone, For others, I sense, are walking it too; The life-force has now from me swiftly flown And I am about to reach out to you.
But you are the end not the beginning, The creator of death, of oblivion: After the grave there's no Angels singing No new life, no heavenly dominion.
What is the purpose of life? To be born, To fight for that little place in the sun And in this quest to get bloodied and torn, Where, in the end, you neither lost nor won.
Empangeni, May 2003
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