The path unbroken winds through stone and flame,
Through joy unnamed and sorrow without name.
It does not bend to comfort or retreat,
But carries on with weary, blistered feet.
It climbs through silence, veiled in morning mist,
Past dreams we lost and hands we never kissed.
It cuts through doubt, where shadows press like walls,
And echoes with the sound of distant calls.
You will not find it paved in easy gold,
Nor marked by signs the timid heart can hold.
But every scar it draws becomes a thread,
A line of truth the soul itself has bled.
And though it leads through valleys cold and wide,
It never leaves your spirit’s burning side.
For every step is proof that you still choose
To rise, to walk, to risk, to love, to lose.
The path unbroken—worn, yet strong and true—
Is made by walking, one breath pulling through.
And when you look behind at where you’ve been,
You’ll see a road that others walk within.
Thank-you for reading.
Much Love and Light,
Brenda Marie
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