From Torture to Fortune

So long a path has been walked. A blanket of leaves lay in their final resting place. Untouched by a traveler's stride. I look ahead at this sea of fallen memories. Years of seasons contributing to this placid surrender. The direction only an instinct. I can't see where this curves; I only follow the way I know. A dead end, turn around, find my bearings and set out again. I walk deeper, the leaves are blinding. The sun has left this place. Is this still the path I started? My familiararity grows like a wild fire in my distinct perception. I've been here before. The thorns rip my flesh, blood trickles down my extremities. Pain yet again. I haven't seen a traveler on this path for a time. I am off course. Ravaged by my travels I collapse. I lay in my own dismal thought. It's time. Regret passes in waves, a tremor through my body as another piece of me falls away. My eyes close and I am gone. I dream I am still walking on this decay of man. I can't even find solace in my own unconscious. It is over... so it would seem in my point of absolute low. The arms of the clock pass, like a cyclone in front of my eyes. When all is black I feel the wind kiss my cheek. The long unknown feeling forces my eyes open. I am not so far off course. The wind awakens the leaves. They are alive and well, climbing out of their graves and once again boarding Cheron's ferry departing the realm, beginning their journey across the River Styx. The path is once again visible. I return to my feet and brush off the years of complacency. I stand before this great cobblestone path, take a breath of the wind and once again begin my journey on the road less traveled.