There is a Way leading from home,
A perpetual Path,
An Avenue paved in ostentation,
A Passage filled with Crusaders Seeking immortality.
The Glorious Road.

Designed by those who would be God,
Built by the sojourners of a simple Life.
The Way appears straight,
An even Path,
A smooth Avenue,
An illuminated Passage,
With Crusaders confronting the brazen images
Of the reputed Demigods gone before.
The facade of the Glorious Road.

The Way is, in Truth, crooked,
An irregular Path,
A jagged Avenue,
An abyssal Passage,
With crusaders continually applying
A veneer of deception
Along the Glorious Road.

The myth of those who would be god,
A calumniation against the Sojourners of a simple life.
The way,
path,
avenue,
passage,
and road to glory does not exist
outside the mind of False demigods
and imposturous crusaders gone before.

Glory is a Journey,
Trek,
Expedition,
Odyssey,
Pilgrimage,
with no set course.

Only once a Pilgrim has completed his route
And looks back at his journal and map
Does he realize that no seemingly easy road was needed.
Glory was his at every faltering step,

And in the final moments of his Journey,
Trek,
Expedition,
Odyssey,
He sees his Pilgrimage has led to one place.

Home.