The Voice

A misty path leads a stranger down roads unknown,

With each step taking him down one road or another.

Tiny decisions each building upon the previous,

Send him closer to his final destination.

Lost, he wonders where he is,

How is it that he ended up here.

Surrounded by the dense, cold fog of the world outside,

He forges off in an unknown direction.

Hearing a voice he stops to listen,

"Come," it says "Follow my voice, I will guide you,"

He stops and turns, listening for the voice.

Hearing nothing he continues ahead,

"Come," he hears, "Follow my voice, I will guide you,"

Yet again he stops and turns,

But as before he hears nothing and continues ahead,

"Come," The voice repeats again, "Follow my voice, I will guide you,"

Stopping he turns and for a third time,

He hears nothing and continues ahead.

Pain shoots through his leg,

A bloody, bullet hole stains his pants,

Gun shots echo in the distance,

And a voice says "I told you to follow and you ignored me,"

"Come follow me, take my hand and I will lead you to safety."

Looking up, the stranger hesitates for a moment and replies two words;

"Yes, Lord."