He slips into the back ally which no one ventures,
The darkness consumes the light making it hard to see the path,
The street lights act as a guide like stars in the sky,
Up above there is a light on in an apartment window,
He watches as the shadow paces back and forth,
He wonders at what thought which has this shadow so upset,
He ponders this no more and reaches the end of the alley,
But not the path
As his journey continues he reaches a bluff and looks at the city lights,
He overlooks the skyline and looks at the city lights,
The lights reflect off the dark water and reveal an opposite world,
He smiles at this thought and embarks again at his search,
Along the path is a rusty, rocking bench,
The paint has been chipped away much like that of his heart,
The bench creaks and moans as it rocks back and forth,
As if there were two ghosts sitting on the bench,
But it is merely the wind
The further away from the city he gets the darker the path becomes,
The city lights are now a glow like that of embers to a once forgotten flame,
He now relies on the moon for showing him the way,
As the world grows into pitch black he begins to see silhouettes in the trees,
He turns only to find it is only his imagination playing tricks on him,
There’s nothing there,
All the shadows, silhouettes, and ghosts are nonexistent
The path finally ends as he reaches his destination,
He falls to his knees as his pants begin to soak in the grass’ early dew,
He puts one hand on the stone and lowers his head,
He begins to weep as he lifts his face to read the stone,
“Rest In Peace” it reads but the stone’s writing is unfinished,
He draws a single rose from his coat and lays it upon the stone,
He turns to leave,
But as he does the rose begins to turn white as its pedals begin to bleed,
The blood red runs along the side of the stone relieving the unfinished word,
“Love”
~NDW
