Narrow is the path that leads to stardom.
But broad is the way whose gloom takes over by surprise.
Solely lonely are those that throd the path of the former.
But though solely lonely; they are holy.
My feet compete with one another as they place themselves ahead one another.
Webs and scraps of dried leaves trails my track.
For there is none whose company I keep.
But though solely lonely; I’m holy.
Rustling dry leaves paints scary images that frights.
Threatening to rid me of hope. Even the thunder clapped,
While winds laugh at me as they slide behind the leaves of trees.
But though frightened to my marrow, my path I didn’t despise for though solely lonely; am holy
© CHRISTOPHER OGHENEWOGAGA VANTUS |OGAG”20|
Do you know Having good days is a decision that we make every day before we even walk out the door.