End of the Road
there's a bridge ahead that I must cross
a land of possibilities awaits,
with greater pains and higher costs
I am woman, I am woman
my youth beams at me from behind
silent prayers that led me here
louder cries that kept me alive
when my feet took me to the edge of the cliffs
my future held me back
"There is a bridge yet that you must cross
this is not the end, you must revert, you must head back."
And so I did,
it took every fibre of my being
it took me all my youth to allow joy
and it took me a few hundred hours to look in the mirror
to stare at me, using my eyes and no other
and who was I?
Who was I to me?
All my youth I had carried others and kept myself asleep.
So, here we are, at the end of the road
Feet bruised, heart still aching
To look behind now means
Looking at my losses and to know it was a good thing.
For the heart remembers
But the mind often forgets
And perhaps that is better
For in thriving, you may find that
memories only foster older lovers.
So, yes, I am content.
And like Nietzsche says,
"Was that life? Well then once more!"
For I confess, I have grown and yet
I could relive my youth again and again.
Oh sorrowful readers, my melancholic fools,
If the world has been obscene,
it is now ready to hold you.
You are not exempt from the wonders of life
Although your youth may be of solitude.
All your life you have only known love by the self
And that may have changed you.
Let it not touch hope or faith or your endless virtues;
For if the world has only ever been hateful,
For the remaining years,
It is now prepared to love you.
- ៷
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