25th Passage

Written by: Daniel Larson

Cuts like a knife
     gone through a last meal,
Nothing more to give,
     even less left to steal.
Closed the window,
     then pulled down the shade
On the yesterdays
     and promises once made.

The moon plays low,
     the heart's beating soft,
Silence is broken
     by one last, distant cough.
Grey fog sets in
     on the morning's rise,
It soaks through the dreams,
     washing off the disguise.

Mary's been gone
     for just a short while,
Some say forever
     they'll remember her smile;
The lines of life 
     that covered her face,
And softness of touch
     in her warmest embrace.

Walks to the west
     and never looks back,
It's laid out ahead
     though been painted in black.
Burst through the night,
     broke loose from the chair,
Was freed from the pain;
     was freed from the despair.

Still be one law
     which so few defend
While hearts are hunted
     in the days that don’t end.
One red rose pales
     near freshly dug graves,
And nobody knows
     if their souls will be saved.

Carries the knife
     used in the last meal,
While gold from his teeth
     was left for thieves to steal.
Sunset draws lines
     o’er waves in the sand;
Two drift in silence,
     waiting for the command.