Across the Grounds

On this night of glistened grounds, I wandered on with little sounds,

A man walked by and with a sigh, he traveled out of sight.

That man, I thought with quickened steps, I think I knew him past.

Was he that man I stumbled by whose spirit was crushed at last?

And being dazed by drink and laze, I averted him that night?



I was a fool to not give aid to him whose fate was clearly laid,

The path he went was often spent, by those with downcast eyes,

And I? With little thought, I passed his scene to go upon my way.

That next day, without repent, I saw the sight, with naught to say.

Was he the same as falling rain, with his life slipping by?



I guessed not. This fate of mine, how could it be theirs intertwined?

Yet still his face, with wind at chase, looked close to memory.

I let the wind steal thoughts of doubt as I stayed my course.

And then my heart began to race, as a man with eyes remorse,

passed by again, and just then  looked on with eyes of misery.



Was this the man who met my eye, the same as he who had gone by?

Can it be? This man I see, the one whose life was lost?

He passed me by, much closer now, and I almost brushed his sleeve.

Could it be, with eyes of woe, a guilty conscious haunting me?

My own eyes down, my smile a frown, I walked on through the frost.



My mind was laden with heavy thought, of heavy deeds, and what was wrought.

Such tearful times, of minor chimes, my life perspective prearranged.

This man with only a look in his eye, has in turn changed my own,

From many a crime, my eyes have turned, no longer  I shall change this tone.

From guilty shies, to earnest cries, my voice will speak of change.