For every person there is a struggle.
Every person has a struggle
and it may be nothing to one person
and to another it could be a overbearing mountain.
A path they were forced to take as they tried to carry on.
Not many could carry such burdens on a road that was as steep
and many fall in those paths,
their eyes glued to the ground as they scream.
As their souls cry out
For someone to help them.
To guide them. To give them support.
But everyone walks past them
focused on their path,
believing they can carry on without aid,
soon to find themselves falling as well in their footsteps.
We all scream silently
as we cry out for help.
Some walk their paths,
bearing scars from their struggles.
Some crawl, their souls in ruins,
from screaming silently,
but never being helped.
Others mask their pain.
hiding the cuts and the bruises.
The cloaks they bare,
Hiding the knives in their souls.
Few manage to walk their paths
with an ease unlike before,
but they walk it at a price.
They walk their paths,
ignorant of the cuts they gain.
Ignorant of the knives stabbing them.
Ignorant of the evil in their way.
Yet, they stop,
They give a hand to those who have fallen.
They reach out to those who were bruised.
They caress the soul of those with the mask.
They open up the world
and clear the way,
for those who have fallen,
they walk on.
They never reach their end.
This does not make them fools.
This does not make them unhappy.
This does not make them fall in their steps.
A fool would not,
Silence the scream and pain of others.
A fool would not,
Be unaware of their own pain.
To be ignorant of the pain,
to be able to help many,
a wiseman must fall.
for it is the wiseman
that will lead the tortured to bliss.
It is the wiseman,
that chose the path of pain,
for he understands the silent screams
and it is him,
who leads the lost and fallen,
back onto their feet.
He will wander the world,
as he ages
guiding the lost.
He will heal the pain
and the broken,
to continue their journey.
While he loses himself
to the silent screams.