Lay of the Lost
There are those who appear to be lost,
Wandering aimlessly throughout life.
Their lives are exceedingly darker than most,
Laden with seemingly endless strife.
It is those that learn bitterly the ways,
Of living honestly, nobly, and prosperously.
They carry a burden till the end of their days,
Trudging along the edge precariously.
Knowing what ails them, yet finding no cure,
Forcing themselves to continue this path,
Of darkness and pain that they must endure,
And hope that on their path, they face little wrath,
Of the one who knows all and judges earnestly,
The multitude of the lost, that stretches endlessly.
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