Things Tend to Hide

The road may be long, weary, and winding

But how could you ever tell

Fortune is hidden and love is blinding

And you just might find gold at the bottom of a well

There is one thing I know to be certain

That brings neither dread nor cheer

Things tend to hide in forests and mountains

But the end of the road is not visible from here

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash