Closing and Opening

Is it not now that the path has reached its end?
Am I not stuck on life’s treadmill of glue and muck?
In a fit of frustration I sit down and weep.
Wiping my eyes I see through their slit;
again I have been fooled by dreams.
Hope is reborn and the path lies ahead.
Travelling forth is a journey into treasures.
Yet I watch my mind for its delusions.