he walked along cracked, parched earth,
stick in hand, bent over,
gone were the dreams of youth and birth,
gone was resilience and fervour.

life had ****** out all vitality
no tears could be wrung from his heart
all was dry, all banality,
how he longed now for fresh start.

too long he'd walked along perfection,
not stepping on someone's toes,
too long ignored his own connection,
had fallen on his nose

he had laid himself wide open
to pink and pinch and ***** and punch,
now he saw the path a-slopin'
heading for final crunch.

he saw a rope, a saving line,
but had no strength to reach it,
so slid he down steep incline
his life and blood long-leeched

and now, at end, at finish-line,
he walks a crooked walk,
he cares no more for life's decline
nor those of crooked talk

there's a veil flappin' beckonin',
he knows now he must go,
he knows there'll be a reckonin'
for his play in the show

but he's had enough of fakery,
the double-talk and sham,
he welcomes break from apery
the falsehood and the scam

and as he neared his last few days,
his step 'came spry 'n sprightly,
for he could hear the songs of praise,
the sun that shone so brightly

for from the mist came love and truth,
a smile he used to dream of,
so he skipped to that new-found youth
and left the world that seemed of