- Books, Literature, and Writing
The Quest of Life
He walks alone on the eve of the night
His collar is raised and there is nowhere to go.
Once again, there is no family or light,
His empty eyes yet again, always stay low.
The sounds of imperceptible lives reach his ears
And are more deafening than ever.
His mind holds crevices of whiskey and years
Bonds have been lost and ties were severed.
The dark clouds gather quickly and furiously,
As he crosses the bridge going toward hell
His personal demons all fly over him curiously
Yet this is the time for a final farewell.
Halfway across his well-beaten path
Crouches his dog of days long before.
And there sits the rusted, partially buried old flask.
And on the post hangs the discarded mirror.
His eyes dart away, to ignore his former past,
The ghosts of the days who used to bid him come,
Be gone, yet away, the die no longer cast
He can finally change, no longer succumb.
Those times now are dead, no longer in vogue
She stands before him without chains in her hand.
He casts off old ways, the former selfish rogue.
Hitting the bottom, caused him to understand.
With her in mind, for once in his life,
She always stood there but he could not see.
Time stood still in blackness and strife.
With the veil lifted, he was meant to be.
May you shed your inhibitions, gain passions anew
This is the season for a new inner glow.
Now see the light, look at the future overdue
Look straight ahead, through a brighter window.
She waited for you through the worst of your days
And knew you would break those bonds.
And brighten that old, well known murky haze.
It only took her trust in you to create that response.
May you live that new, bright world
With true passion and undying zest.
Your deepest emotions have surfaced, unfurled
You have passed the most difficult of tests.
© 2014 Deb Hirt