Not free, not wise, not kind, not loved,
and tethered to the past

Unwilling to admit the truth,
he met his match at last

His Muse had warned time and again,
a reckoning was near

His eyes to close, his voice to mute,
beyond his greatest fear

Unsung, unwanted, lost, alone,
his nights became his days

His abrogation to regret,
the price all sinners pay

If just one chance to then go back,
and take that other road

The dark would pass, the light return
—and end his life below

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)