Stranded Eyes

My hand,
It likes to be forced,
When it hovers,
Indecisively,
In the vacant air.

To reach a dead end,
And backtrack,
To the remaining path,
Is the surety,
That evokes the security,
To press on.

Why look back,
When all paths,
Have been explored?

Forward,
Is where stranded eyes,
Must stay fixed.