What now? Aims I have none, routine nigh done
The nine to five, back & forth, kids, left none.
And what of her, my betrothed, only beloved,
A croup, a someone, an Other, far removed,
Strangers, we live on, under one roof.
What must I think now, action-inaction,
The days ahead, whither now?
I roam, chamber to chamber, lantern in hand,
Is this my crossroad, or a crossing mere?
Strange are these paths, known unknown,
Straight, long, narrow and square.
While I re-search a semblance of sanity,
There sits she, upright, soaking in my light,
Who is this? Who am i? O what a strange plight.
An aim, a goal must I find.
Even a shadow of grace, to end this phase.
My grief to dust grind, seek my place.
A brief insanity – an aimless man,
even the Earth would ban.