He walks alone on a lonely road,
far from anything close to a home.
The icy rain slaps his face,
a hardened man looking for his place.

A hundred paths have led him here,
he walked them all without help nor fear.
A home he left so long ago,
solitude is all he’s ever known.

In his heard he carries a torn and jaded past,
he can’t forget, he won’t turn back.
Betrayal, lies, deciet; the road he used to walk.
The righteous path is laden with jagged rocks.

He stays strong, hiding his fear; its so sad,
he keeps running from something he never wanted so bad.
He’s got every ingrediant, all he needs is the faith,
to end this road and find his place.

His shoulders hold up so much; the lights grow dim,
he carries who he can, they all lean on him.
He wants to fall, he wants to cry,
but he’ll never fold, he’ll always try.

She was taken from him so long ago,
a pain so deep, few will ever know.
“What do you want from me?!” he screams at the night,
as he falls to his knees, too tired to fight.

He’s fallen, he can’t move, he’s done,
claimed by a path where water and blood run.
His body grows cold, his strength wanes,
he closes his eyes, to black everything fades.

His body so weak; his mind still denying.
He lived his whole life like he was dying.
Now he lies face down in the grass.
Finally claimed by the ghosts of his past.