At the end of it all,
He smiles and waves her on,
Just one more stop along his road,
But it will follow him forever.
So much ground he's covered,
The lies all paved in gold,
A path of no resistance,
(save the bitter bitter truth.)
But he turns off the light,
And drives on blind,
Not ignoring,
But embracing that road.
He wants to pass her by,
To drive on through the mourning,
But, to the end, we have no choice,
We always stop,
And so, he does too.
He promises nothing but the moment,
But after two,
He asks for three,
Knowing he wants so many more,
But, afraid of the weight,
He stops.
This road seems longer than before,
And he takes it slower still,
His end not yet in sight,
But he feels his Lot,
(Or perhaps *his* wife,)
As her hands reach out from his closet,
To remind him again,
Of the end that came before.
-So much for the dignity of love...
"Heartache is not the end, but rather, the chance to start again." |
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