A Story's End
by Michael Doyle

A story must be told through its end
However little we think that we can defend
As the hero struggles to free himself from chains
While holding onto the dreams of the morning rains

It's hard to cut through the blur of tired eyes
Knowing that only a lifetime of pain comes to recognize
The price of tickets being paid in full to paradise
It's even higher when no one knows the truth from attendant lies

These are the lies that bring us to our maturity
Knowing that ignorance brings its sense of security
When what is needed to know is the offense
Of giving up only to agree to the majority's pretense

That all of life might yet become known
Through traveling the hidden roads yet to be shown
However far we travel, there is further still to grow
Life's secrets are given in the tease that flows

It is anger and fear that strips us of our humanity
As the charade of life kills off our remaining vanity
We think on all we have dreamed we might have had
If we'd fought harder, never succumbing to feeling sad

The truth is that the world holds mostly lies
That, though transparent, are veiled before our eyes
As we push forward, hoping to live out our dreams
While feeling that we are coming apart at the seams

The expense for this comes from our search within
As we are filled with a lost void of lived-out sins
These lands are as vast as the depths of our hearts
With one void ending where yet another quietly begins

However much we act with what we believe to be diligence
We cannot help but guard ourselves, hiding with vigilance
When we finally stand up to what we believe are our fears
We will come to be better than the sum of our years

Our bravery becomes and writes the pages of our tale
Even as we learn that we've created our own Hells
In life's waters, we stare at our shimmered reflections
And know the future past is made from our creation

The connections on which we will build our tomorrows
As we dare to dream of some sort of end to our sorrows
And yet we wake again to our nightmares lived instead
And we find we are shaped by the falsehoods in our heads

(c) November 17, 2023   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved