Lay Your Woes Upon the Ground and Know That the End Will Soon Swallow You

A deep breath, a heavy sigh. So quickly fades the light.
Consumed by enduring shadow. So dark, the wooded path at night.

A foe without form, without mass.
No throat to which my hands may tightly grasp.

Truth absolute is found in the shadows.
Critical realizations.

The winding path that seems endless, barred by terrible obstacles.
Is littered with ways home.

That path comes to an end the second
those looming shadows bear the load.
Numerous moments in a life of distress, carried home.