Sometimes

There was a time when I was so sure, of you and why and how, and now I walk like a matted shade in the distance of my view. I cannot see here nor can I feel there. 
And in the midst of this heart that fades in time that grows away, I do not have what I should have, I am not where I should ought to be.
Where does it go from here for far and wide there is no path, no road to pursue, no aim to abide.