Ambivalence on the Heath

(I wrote this last year. It is about the times when you do what is comfortable and easy instead of what you know to be right; and it's about getting past those times.)

When dark the paths of evening grow

And pale the light remains

The lands lay still apart from crows

Their hollow calls disdain

Those watchers and those walkers still

Upon the roads below

Who fight and strive to go at will

Beyond the heath plateau.

And I amongst those strivers stay;

A shadow in the moors,

Lonely wandering from the way

To open secret doors.

I find within a comfort spot;

A place to rest my head

And there I stay - it seems my lot

To rest until I'm dead.

It's safer here beneath this roof

Than walking the long road

And maybe I will see some proof

That lifts my heavy load.

Until that day I'll rest and wait

As my short time grows dim

And in me grows a rising hate

For life upon the rim.

The rim of all that it should be;

Of pain and struggles more.

I've settled for a tiny fee.

I'm all that I abhor.

And when the loathing grows too much

I'll set out once again

Before I turn a wraith; no touch

Will warm this hollow man.

And on the path once more I'll see

The struggles and survive.

I'll learn that it takes more for me

To feel and act alive.

As I do march through this long night,

By light of guiding Star,

I slowly see dawn's pale new light

Now glowing from afar.

From there, beyond the fresh green lands,

I see the shining sea

The sun does rise with open hands

And warmly welcomes me.