When in doubt.
Blessed, the journey strides onwards. Yet, eminently tainted with doubt. 'Stop, you're on the wrong path.' The echoing voice shadows the easy way out. Sisyphean days, where's the pleasure? The upward hill translates to a steep climb, Roads closed off, leaving a rocky baleful walk. When it's simply a sinister game of the mind. Sometimes blessed are the blinds, Who see no fear ahead, no obstacles. Led purely by the leap of faith. Through much sweat, no suspicion and little struggle. Make it through the mental dubiety, Opaque skies and physical storms. And with this admirable strength, Watch life give in to your charm.