End Of The Trail Poem by John DeBona

Every step full of pain, a step farther away from my home.
All I knew as a child, now memories and flames.
The fear of darkness weighs on my back.
I'm burdened with worry but I can't stop to cry.
The old ones, the young ones are dying, but I have to keep walking.
The beating of the cold, sickness, and the soldiers riding on horses.
Far away stares, in the older ones eyes.
They no longer care if they live.
Is this the promise of a new life?
I'm alone, afraid, beaten and cursed.
Yet I trudge on, with my head held high and with a purpose.
If it takes all I can give, to take one more step.
If I die while doing so, then I have lived in my last moment.
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, tears with every word.
Every moment of breath a gift from the great spirit.
Tears, blood, screams, fear I cry as a child.
The end of the trail.
Great Spirit have pity.
I do this so I will live