# Journey I don't know where the road leads, but I keep walking. The sky darkens sometimes, the stars emerge like shy promises. I've learned not to ask what lies beyond the next bend. My feet have grown acquainted with stone and soil, my eyes with distance. There are companions along the way— some stay, some fade into the country behind. I've stopped counting the days. What matters is the rhythm: one step, then another, the breath that sustains it, the small rebellions of hope that bloom unbidden. The destination, if it exists, will announce itself. Until then, I am the road, and the road is me.

I have come a long way. And the road does not end...
And years, years have passed...
Ah, Life, you're not frightening—I wipe away the tears.

This is neither pity nor insult...
How many times, perhaps in jest,
you pressed down your foot with a smile...

And I rose up, my soul wounded,
and I forgave, didn't I... There was no choice...
I cannot count how many sorrows
I buried somewhere deep within.

Don't turn away. I'm alive, and I can
still reach toward life...
Yes, toward you. Won't you accept? You have no choice.
I walked a long way without resting.

And I, by accident, discovered the most boundless spring
within my human heart...
And the road does not end. It has nowhere to halt.
And the years have passed... By design.

Ah, Life, you're not frightening. All things end well.
And I think I'm only just beginning....