There is that road less traveled;
with weeds and thistle overhead;
where that growth is unraveled;
Oh Lord; please let me be led.
I cannot tell where it’s leading;
much like a jungle of the mind;
and yet, it almost seems pleading;
that I see its completion defined.
I know not why it draws me so;
there are no flowers there to see;
and yet, it bids me to come and go;
to someplace that I need to be.
There’s scarcely space for steps;
my feet are trampling the weeds;
it’s where man and divine intercepts;
to fulfill all the man’s needs.
This road certainly leads somewhere;
and though it seems to be lowly;
it’s a place for those in despair;
a place where all become holy.
The road is a totally circular path;
returning to its beginning;
back to the garden of your wrath;
its final victory winning.
There is that road less traveled;
with weeds and thistle overhead;
where that growth is unraveled;
Please Lord; let me be led.