Follow The Drums

I race, alongside everyone,
Towards the constant beat of drums.
But no matter how fast I run,
Still further the sound becomes.

I see someone go faster, I concentrate;
I must try and pick up pace.
Afraid that I may reach too late,
Afraid there wont be place.

We don't know what we're running for
And no one seems to care.
Where we're going, nobody's sure;
But we still wish to be there.

Until I wonder, slowly suspect
Where the sounds are coming from;
I search and question and introspect,
Yet I don't see a single drum.

At last, I realize that I've been
Running blindly around;
In a circle, like everyone else I've seen;
While from the center came the sound.

I stop. And tell all those beside,
To see for themselves what I did find,
They tell me not to break my stride,
Warn me not to lose my mind.

I turn away from the endless race,
And walk towards the core.
I see people; no familiar face;
Those who've walked away before.

Beside them, a ladder stood;
That rose upto the sky.
They didn't say a word, I understood,
No one can make that choice but I.

For a moment, I let curiosity hold sway,
And dream of all there is to come.
But there are others still looking for their way,
So for now, I pick up a drum.