Ahead lies a road,
A long one.
The sides are filled with trees
Whose leaves hover over
My walking silhouette.
Flowers that once blossomed
In the springtime
Are now dormant.
I see shadows about-
Red stains across some;
Whispers coming from others.
Dead bodies of water-
They resemble tears that once
Tasted of joy and sorrow.
The rain falls.
My feet are weary; I drag them.
Blisters on my toes.
My legs- sprinkled with mud
My pack burdens my back and shoulders;
But I walk,
Looking to encounter a new season.
The world’s turned cold,
Dark and barbaric.
I’ve been set up.
I was told lies growing up.
I was told we are all equal.
But the shadows that
Lay beside every step I take
Tell a different story.
Some morbid; some melancholic.
Others have no voices-
Perhaps they never did.
Still walking,
I realize that I have a voice.
And just like a lotus blossoms
Out of muck
I, too, will rise.
And speak for fallen souls.
And every time I’m surrounded by mud
I know it will wash right off.
My voice will resonate,
And my frequency shall vibrate
From shore to shore, across all seas.
Photo Credit: My Opera