Poem: The Valley

The valley of life lives in the shadows of death.

So covered with fog that you see nothing pass your sight.

Yet we scrap and climb for everything within distance.

What does it all mean to have it all, and at the same time nothing?

The homes that layer the roads to destination that we were told was the goal.

They hold the most secrets out of them all.

The shadows we were told not to go.

This was the place where we all will end.

It draws us in as much we climb the wall to get out.

There is no running when they only take their time.

This shall not pass for it has already been written.

The story has been told, now we must watch the play

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