The Wrong Direction

Not so long ago, along the road of life,
Walked a young lad who's interesting ideas
Flowed beside of where many were walking.
Filled with inspiration and joy,
He sprinted with enthusiasm
Continuing faster than anyone else
Progressing harder and faster, working on for the future
Which seemed to be a bright, plentiful sun.

But one day, at the dawn of a faithful year of accomplishment
His fascinations' light grew dimmer and dimmer;
And behind him grew a new ambition,
A new illumination; the ambiance in the air itself
Formed an image into his mind.
He turned around to see what this was...
Reality, or hallucination?
The radiance blazed into his eyes,
And new fascination surrounded him.
The point of realization was at its peak.

His sight returned from this bright lighting,
But things were not the usual.
Everyone around him had disappeared;
The beautiful, blue sky and the grassy mountains
Had transformed in the blink of an eye,
To a barren field with dark, cloudy skies.
And like lightening to a peaceful wonderer,
He was stricken as his realization led him to the fact
That the ambiance was produced by those very people
He tried to progress past.
And that he had run thousands of miles...
But in the wrong direction.

> The Rebel