The Writers Voice
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fresh upon this route
So long ago and far away,
That time has blurred beyond a doubt
The very starting place and day.
I know it was from far below
This winding trail where I now stand
That once a long, long time ago
I started on this journey grand.
Some have passed me in the race
While others I have passed with care.
We all must travel at a pace
Determined by the loads we bear.
I've witnessed much along the way
And seen both great and gruesome sights:
The highest high, the brightest day,
The lowest low, the darkest nights.
And now the final push is near
To make the summit up ahead.
The path, though rough, is very clear.
I face the summit filled with dread.
It's not the journey's end I fear
But what may lie beyond the end.
Although I see it drawing near
I cannot see around the bend.
I wish that I could help you find
Another route on which to start,
To ease the strain upon your mind
And stop the pain within your heart.
Alas, no matter what I say
You won't believe these words I fear,
You'll have to climb this very way
To get yourself from there to here.
But this I can assure you friend,
The path is marked with boundless tears
Of pain and joy from start to end,
And footsteps trod for countless years.
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