Wandering the barren scape
A storm is coming,
A memory, is all that will remain
A single thought, nothing more

In the end, had it mattered at all?
Or, was it a waste?
Was I real at all, or just a shadow on the wall
Leaving, nothing but regret?

A thousand sunrises, did I see them?
Or was it only darkness?
Did I reach out, try to make a difference?
Or , sit and watch it pass by
in a kaleidoscope of wonder and misery?

I walked the dusty path, lighting each lamp in turn
Yet, the darkness remained
No matter where I turned it was there
My protagonist, the darkness itself
To silence my effort, to hide the oil…

A uttered word, lost to the wind
In turn, each light obscured
Where were the answers
That haunted this troubled soul
Elusive, as reality, changing

The answers sought, friends lost
Always, just out of reach
I saw the truth , and yet it stayed
hidden, even in the light of day
It remained a mystery

Stopping just a moment
To scan the horizon
Trying to find my barrenings
I lit a single candle, to push back
the mounting darkness,

Just then, I saw it in the distance
The answer, I had fought for
Struggled for, longed for
A Resolution…
And.. then
The candle went out.

An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe