With every step, a silent prayer,
avoid the fractures in the road out there.
Each crack a marker, a sin recounted,
in asphalt scriptures,
my faults mounted.
A path rerouted, an obsession’s dance,
evading numbers
that darken my trance.
If my foot falls on a broken stone,
a spit to cleanse the fault I own.
Whispered names of those I’ve pained,
echoing softly down memory’s lane.
Every crack is a sin,
every clear path a grace,
tracing life’s lines
like a fragile vase.
I tread lightly,
lest the ground I curse,
in every step, a chapter, a verse.
I’m the keeper of my own flawed gait,
turning sidewalks
into a confessional slate.
Beneath my feet, the city’s scars,
aligning my steps with distant stars.
A cosmos underfoot, in concrete laid,
with every careful dodge,
a penance paid.
So I’ll walk this city’s winding veins,
a mapmaker of sidewalks,
charting pains.
With each step, a story unfolds,
in the quiet of my mind,
where confession holds.