The Bridge

The bridge lies in the middle,
shaking, but still i proceed on.

I try to grip tightly to the railings,
yet i see myself tripping.

It's still a long way ahead,
and never like a piece of cake.

As before the rocks were firm,
yet now it's moving.

Adjusting I thought it was,
till now the answer I haven't found.

Walk on, I thought,
Maybe not, the rock says.

Left out of the circle,
like a person without a shadow.

Looking for something,
that many others take for granted.

I press on, hold on.
Although the inside is bleeding.

Profusely than ever I hope,
that the bridge brings me to my destination.