My Road

Cradled in heavy, grieving arms,

my head is wrapped in a fog of sorrow.

Cushioned, I can't feel the bumps in the road.

I am safely unaware and protected,

and with a final, unfelt lurch, the road ends.

I emerge from my fog, at the end of my road.

My sorrow at my feet, I try to look back,

but the road is too blurred and out of focus.

I have reached the end unscathed, unalive.