Running to the end of the Earth he would never find
he stands at the edge of a dangerous abyss
to ponder upon a past he could hardly recall.
Life had deserted the warming slopes of a mountain
painted it seems by an impressionist in search of canvas
carved by a cubist unable to reconcile with beauty.
Still he braved the gusts of an evening breeze
arms extended as if ready to take flight into the unknown
eyes shut to feel the hidden secrets of the stony walls.
He could plunge to a certain demise to uncover reality
invited guest through the many gates of this jagged earth
knowing well the infinite peace was within his reach.
Soaring among the layers of a mysterious stratosphere
he passed through the golden cliffs of a last dusk
to be taken into the warm embrace of his final cradle.