The path drifting from view,
Receding into the distance.
Tears welling up,
The memories, people, events and times.
All in the past,
Left without a foothold,
No path forward or back,
Merely falling, drifting,
And navigating some form of landing.
Manipulating a descent,
One with other people, events, memories to be made.
The branching of many opportunities,
The uncertainty that comes with living,
The uncertainty of being, of existence.
All that is known,
Receding from view,
Leaving an emptiness,
The moving on with the days ahead.
Like eating without taste,
Happiness without feeling,
Thinking when never knowing.
As the path recedes from view, on I go,
To forge another. To burn the bad bridges behind me. To enshrine the golden monuments that have built me, kept me and protected me.