Shadows overcast cast over
Footsteps where light dimmed
And vision caved in

Underneath every beautiful flower there are still ugly roots
And the illusion of beauty is found in the angle – or absence – of light
Because inside every overconfident smile there is still the struggle for survival

And the metaphor starts
Where the light filters through glass-leaf screens
And trickles like rain in drought
That doubts – After dry times there is always the storm
Because this is the cyclical cycle that always ends with the same beginning

And I can make it through these next six steps
That’s what will carry me through these next six years
This is the path I chose
I am still searching for the end of the road
And the dust shifts and settles, but the journey stays the same

And just because I have stumbled
Does not mean that I have forgotten how to walk.