The road upon that which I stand
has many, many twists and turns.
Though it is still a part of the land—
a land that has yet to be burned.
All aside the path that lay ahead,
the path I fled from—tomorrow,
I see angels among flower beds,
who wish to take away my sorrow.
I am not sure what that means,
but it means something, I’m sure.
And even if you haven’t seen what I’ve seen,
just know—there is a future.
The road upon that which I stand
has many ups, and many more downs.
But though I am just a simple man,
I can still turn things around.
Beside which road I travel down,
the flowers will grow upright.
They will no longer wilt, nor drown,
and will smile when there’s sunlight.
Oh, how I wish there was a way
to bring those flowers onto this path—
to show them how not to be afraid,
to look beyond the aftermath.
The end upon that which I’ve neared—
I wish not for it to last forever.
For the end is not our greatest fear,
but rather it is not remaining together,