Game

Written by: A. Sanders

Though I rest my weary head
The way is barred to slumber’s bed
Fare thee wells still left unsaid
Too long walked these roads to shed

Gate is tall and closed fast
My greatest fear I find surpassed
How could it be that this comes to pass?
I am defeated here at last

Night in sky whispers regret
Of endless travels I can’t forget
Abandoned by those still unmet
I sit and dwell on my plans, upset

“Let it go,” windy whispers spout
“Worry no more for this ‘round-a-bout”
“Tomorrow, victory!” I stand and shout
I turn, I sit and then I log out.