the beginning of an end

a final sprint to an unknown destination,
a run with hefty breaths and beady sweat.

she saw the end of the tunnel where the light broke,
of orange splendor, golden hope.
she looked back and saw the darkness of the past,
and wondered how she felt her way through the years.

the orange brightness could be an oasis,
of sheer fictitious lies that life renders.

if that is all imagination,
where will she be when the glimmer of hope fade?

will she turn around and walk back into the black dungeon?
well, there no where else to go anyway.

or will she stop at the end of the final sprint,
and hope for a miracle as time and life consume her slowly?