Paradox

Sojourning a journey,
Running a race.
Yearning for that heavenly destination,
Of it no permanent trace.

Several travelers,
uncountable roads.
But which one is the right one?
Where is one to go?

Obstacles appear,
rocks and stones get in the way,
Flustering the wanderers,
making some go astray.

You saunter on
STILL trying to find,
that peaceful destination
towards which paths intertwine.

Staring straight ahead,
an intersection comes in sight.
The choice is yours to make
whether you turn left or right.

Years and years fleet past
the race is not yet done.
What else is one to endure,
'til he can say that he's won?

Doubt starts to linger,
clouding your limited mind;
brooding over you deeds' vanity,
including every sacrifice.

You begin to waver,
changing track as you think
that this destination's mere illusion,
one of your mind's little tricks.

Proceeding the voyage,
with no particular goal to reach;
still craving for contentment,
just shambling as you please.

In the end there's no goal,
no final destination to pursue;
traversing on high and low tide,
still in search of the truth.

P.S: Bear with me. I'm not much of a poet. :)