One Man's Travels

I started my life in a dark forest, where wolves ran free and girls in little red capes were rarely seen. Snakes bear apples and mad hatters chased rabbits.
Twenty-one cannons fired daily and calls of barons were heard from their mansion door.
And now it becomes less of a fairy tale and more of a life story.
Walking the streets was nightmare. Blood poured from alleyways frequently. Every "sales man" carried an automatic weapon. The familiar flash of blue and red are no longer seen.
Yes, they got the message.
Life expectancy = First mistake.
Words are carefully and rarely spoken. Everyone knew everyone. Through one contact or another.

Day light was scarcely spoken of. The word justice meant nothing. Escape. Impossible. I didn't throw caution to the wind. I pulled my way through the mud.

I dragged my way out of the tar that was society. I came out shining in the unspoken daylight.

But I remember that all the way through, there was always a helping hand. A "higher being". A person capable of giving me the will to carry on.

And as I come to the end of my travels, I know that "higher being" will still be with me.

But this is just my travels. What are yours?