Looking down at his hands, he weeps
he remembers the days of his youth
the carefree days, the glorious adventures.
how is it possible that he had forgotten them?
age, years, stress, strife
all have conspired to steal away
his precious memories
until all that is left
is this empty shell that stands here
in this corridor, opening doors
searching for the way
at this moment
he could gladly sit upon the floor
and remain until the grim takes him
to not be bothered any longer
by the flashes of the past
by the pain that what is to come
shall reveal to him
leaning against this last door,
he slides to the floor
and he rests, he remembers
he weeps
for the boy that never got to be a man
his friend, his brother in levity
'oh, how i wish that it had been me instead'
he whispers to the silence
he puts his head in his hands
and he weeps.