All paths I’ve composed
With this tattered mind
Converge and clash
Then fade with haste

No one knows
Of their loyal migrants
Of the proud silhouettes
That wander their curves

No one cares
For the struggles won
For the triumph and turmoil
I’ve carefully spun

All paths age
Mossed over with time
Pried from my thoughts
From my surging, reckless hopes

Unknown and unheeded
Are the best of my plights
The shallowest of depths
I may cleave without fright