He asked me to take his hand and follow him into the deep, dark cavern of his soul.

I hesitated, but he was alone and afraid to take the journey, so I paid the toll. 

I saw the valleys of gray shadows that tormented his utter despair, deep blue isolating grief and entombed black confession. 

I heard bone chilling wailing, haunting calls, and voices of doubt in succession. 

And we were only inside the mouth of the cave. It was to the light I wanted to race, 

but he grabbed my hand tighter and blew the icy cold storm of guilt at my tearful face. 

“You are my only friend. No one else understands.” I felt my feet sink deep into mud and my legs grew weak. 

We then began the excavation of memories, shattered dreams, and lost hopes. I decided to look up to find a peak. 

And there it was, off in the distance, so far that we had to hike most of the way. 

I told him to keep his eye on it, keep walking toward it and when he got there, to stay. 

Resting myself, he went on without me, looking back once or twice, but always talking. 

Eventually his voice got softer, his cries were silenced and he kept on walking.

 I looked down to find that the wretchedness of his life covered my feet, hands, and face. 

My clothes were sticky with the cobwebs of his injustice no one could erase, 

And yet, he walked on through it, leaving me behind to clear the spiders from my mind, and wash the pain from my heart. 

I am him and he is me. The journey is the same, but the path is different.

Out of the darkness and into the ghetto of  gray we are  walking, always searching, 

Until the light appears and a beautiful assemblage of the pieces make a new life.