Conquer…

It shadows me,

This winding trail–

A path paved over

Great travail.

Its stones are weary,

As are my feet,

Too worn for comfort

And defeat.

It goes onward,

A dogged kind

Of forward motion

On paths gone blind.

Their briars heavy,

Brush grown thick,

Only liars would say

This way was quick.

What might lead forward

Is now behind

As I step toward

A grail to find.

-C. Green

Conquer

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