Pathway.

His eyes were so sunken in.

That sometimes at the right angle dim spouts of light shone through.

So soft were his thoughts, and his words.

The harshness of his action were unheard.

Shallow beams in the night.

Follow the heartthrob.

Say, Good Night.

See the steel, and see your reflection.

The water never rippled, and the air stood still.

The ground remained scarred

A place where a soul escaped.

Cigarette butts placed neatly on the ground.

Lined up in single row, one's left lit.

The heat is suffocating

And the flames won't let up.

He walks away tired.

His eyes closed,

And his skin aged.

Marked by the desire for a different path.