There is a path understood by none
But he that walks its way.
A path only traveled by some
Barely visible in the day.
This path isn’t wide nor groomed
Nor is easy to walk upon
The trees are mean in their bloom
And sing a sad sorry song.
Men who tread a path this hard
Are often mocked by the throng
But there is a time not too far
When these men will be gone.
Then this lonely path will disappear
Will grow its foliage down
For no man will be walking there
For no man will be found.