Trudging through the forest,
Through the briers and the brambles,
Pushing through the barbed thickits.
To a place where a rabbit couldn't go.
Your soul, I feel it seeping,
Into the mud that lies here.
Why do you you choose this approach,
When your hands are full?
To you, the weary, I ask if it's worth it.
Is it worth the scraping and the pains?
Is it worth to chance your time?
Please be careful where you tread.
You may not be able to travel,
But you can still turn back.
To take what you have,
And make your leave.
However, the shadows of the forest can mislead.
The barbs may not be how they appear.
The journey might not be so near.
The meaning might not be so clear.
