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by Duane Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1885947
Coming to terms with the loss of one that had suffered so much
To Go Alone

He had marched so long
Weary battered and bruised
Head held high, proud and sure
Body bent low, tired and scarred
He continued on with shrouded sight
The twilight a mist unsettling
With labored breath and heavy feet
Slowly and surely he went forth
Mindless of the soiled patches upon him
From the stumbles and falls
Surrounded by outstretched hands
That could never reach through the veil
Incorporeal voices beseeching with guidance
Unheard by time weathered ears
He has reached his summit
His burden lifted
Not by the path we sought
But by the one that he forged within
Now he waits among friends
Patient for those left behind
To be greeted with bear hugs
Through tear stained smiles

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