~ Ramblings ... ~

He who walks
Walks tall and wide.
But that is not to be,
For he would be brought down soon enough.

To fall is so easy,
Though painful sometimes.
Might be hard to get up,
Some prefering to crawl.

Hands are abundant,
Willing to pull,
But pride plays a curtain
Blinding the soul sometimes.

To he who has slithered,
Down the dark slopes.
Wandering on fours, wondering what's wrong.
He knows joy when grace lifts him up.

But he who walks tall,
Walk knowingly, humbly,
Lest he falls like the others.
For he who walks, falls before.

How long more,
Is the way clear?
When will he walk again?