Avenue

Denuded avenue, your staunch

path leads unerringly home.

The stakes are cracked and

toppled, the weeds accost your

--

verges. But you lead onwards,

refusing to capitulate.

Your ashen surface, hard and

unyielding at its core yet crumbling

--

at its extremities, manifests in

itself the dissension I feel. My

weak dullness, my wanton ignorance.

Circumspection shunned.

--

I cannot conciliate my desires with

my longings. My will atrophies,

rendering my effusive self-promises

meaningless.

--

The avenue stretches before me.

Denuded. Toppled. Crumbling.

I do not have much time left

If I am to follow its path.