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FOUR
An empty plate,
An empty table,
Tabula rasa
And nothing now seen
That comes from the past
And all has to start
Anew, again,
And all old has gone
All past stays back there
All past has to cede -
For that, it needs Closure,
And somehow, an end,
An end but so stark,
So stark in its wording
And calling for names -
And all now broke down
And broke is the fate?
What flight we may take,
The path stays the same
The faces won't leave,
The places are here,
The mind is the key -
And new things to be
From old are just built
And where we now go
Is linked to the place
From where we just came.
The end now comes near,
Its shadows approaching,
It's reach now encroaching
And feeling so cold
And feeling so dead
And feeling so new
And promising much -
So death is a slayer
And bridges shalt burn
And new are the songs
And new shalt they be
But this is the end.
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