The final written word, upon the final etching stone,
The final setting sun, upon the final homely home,
The final restless night, upon a long since lonely bed,
The final tangled dreams, upon a sad and broken head.

I took my final ramble, through a twisted, weeping wood,
I took my final amble, whilst it gnarled and wept and stood.
I took my final glimpse, at its jaded depth and pride,
I took my final fleeting glance, as I breached its darkest side.

And what do you think I saw, as I defied that creeping dark,
And what do you think I felt, as I espied at last my mark?
And what was standing there, as I emerged into the day,
And what do you think I said, what at the last is there to say?

A man there stood with beard and cloak, next to a vacant grave,
A man who stood tall and bent, before an age old cave.
A man whose eyes a million words, of waging wars and raging foes,
A man whose face a thousand years, and he remembered every one of those.

And what do you think he said, as I stood before him then,
And what do you think he said, that through my heart did rend?
And what do you think he said, that drew the sadness from my eyes,
And what do you think he said, to make me smile and break the ties?

“Take ease, your troubled heart, now hold your head up high.
Without answer you made your start, like an eagle learns to fly.
With open heart you drank it in, the feelings as they came,
And every one of those you felt, and they became your name.

“You were flawless in your role, amidst the joy and terror,
You were flawless in your role, exquisite through the error!
Through love and hate, and joy and tears, through angst and calm and many fears,
Through these things you found your way, and these became your years.”

And with those words the shadow stole him, back into the cave,
And with those words a final thought, sent he into my grave.
“You do not run towards the end, but the end will run to you,
So find your peace my dear young friend, for the end is always true.”