The Dark Tunnel

There was no beginning, and is no end ahead,
To the dark, dark tunnel through which I’m walking now.
The tunnel here, is my life, you see, inside my head;
And life, as the great warrior once said,
Is the flash of the firefly in the night,
Yet there’s no light
In front of me.

I dropped my glasses sometime ago,
In the darkness, where I lost them for good.
I could not see then, nor again would,
Even as I stood,
And strained to see that which I could
Not,
And would never be able to see.

Every turn that I take out of pure impulse
Seems to lead me somewhere new.
But what is the difference between new and old,
If the last tunnel was the same kind of cold,
This, the same darkness told,
Over and over,
Until befuddled I forget it again?

Frustrated sometimes, I shout out loud,
To people I can neither see nor hear,
Wondering, hoping there is someone there,
Who isn’t lost or sightless like me,
And if they would care
To fish me out of this sea of darkness,
And take me where
I can see.

But I was mistaken, you see, for no one came.
All I could hear was the sound of my voice
Echoing around the walls of the tunnel—
The same old noise
That I’ve been hearing
For as long as I can remember.
I have no choice
But to keep listening.

I say to myself, Maybe they’re up ahead;
Just a little distance more,
And then this journey
Can come to an end.
And until then,
I shall continue walking.

But I am tired of walking now,
So maybe I shall sit down here awhile.
And if I go off to sleep,
I hope it is deep.
Somnolence weighs heavily upon me;
I can almost see the light.
Yes.
Maybe it’s better if I don’t wake up.