A spring night lingers last.
Without any friends beyond the silent cold night breeze.
Alone in a sobering world, anxiously my ears ring.
Loosing my hearing but having no comments to hear.
Cars speed past, some of us having no where left so vast.
Memories of the dead souls waft still in through the night screen.
Heaven has no living plan, my past long lived without future lifespan.
Now without hope, impending dawn awaits an imminent ending.
A spring night lingers last, so simple in its nocturnal setting.
Yet, the sun rises tomorrow, my self but a memory; neither mourned or remembered.
Just a single breeze in April after a cold rain fell.
With another lonely man questioning his legacy, Gods existence and his purpose of self.
Only to drift from sleep off into deaths night and onto the breeze to share in the collective loneliness with transitional ease.
A serenity swansong and finally in bliss, together alone with armies of past; who float somber in silence entered inside the wind.