Glistening & Bloodied Gravel

Glowing a distinct orange amongst the trees,   
The moon has chosen to once more grace the skies
And as it rises, the color fades to a silvery cloak
Lighting the paved trespass before me

Each little piece of gravel seems to glisten
As if softer than skin
Tenderly, my bare feet stretch forth to begin anew
To walk where I have shied before
But each little piece of gravel no longer glistens of silver
They stab my feet with every turn
And looking back, all I see is a bloodied trail

Weakened state has me wondering how I have been so blind
Wrap my hands upon my shoulders, closed to those who would talk
Enchanting haze reveals souls unawares and unforgiving
So I continue walking, astonished at my eager ignorance
To the truth of all who surround,
For as much as was suspected, never was doubt strong enough for me to genuinely question any of you
Perhaps that is foolish

But now, as my feet wear ever more thin upon this direction
I wonder, did any of it matter?
Did I matter?

“The purpose of life is to matter; to feel it has made some difference that we have lived at all.” – Leo Rosten

And so now my question begs another
Have I yet to live? Or have I lived,
Just in a different context from that of my imagination?

So a bread crumb path of puddled red
Is all that can remain of my experiences and those that I will not look to again
Repetition and comfort lift my legs to continue on
Forever searching for something that matters
For something that makes me matter

Just another day in paradise

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