Black asphalt, wet and glistening,

the scent of passing rain and oil;

boot heels clicking on the hard surface

as he strides toward the light.

Warrior, wanderer, poet, pawn

determined to finish this; better

than it started, all those years ago;

he travels toward the end.

Wisdom lacking, he of instinct bound;

delights in the simpleness of it,

a final journey in a life of them

toward the unknown horizon.

And on this path, considering all

he vows; never to be broken.

His spirit flies with the eagles

as he suffers the indignity of existence.