The Last Good-bye

Feel the chill
Of the mist around
Your face.
The fingers of your
Outstretched hands
Are grasping, clawing,
To hold onto
Something,
Everything,
That you canâ??t have.
Standing in the pitch black night
Rain pouring, dumping,
From the ash-gray clouds
Grey-black running down your cheeks,
A morbid dye identifying your tears,
Revealing your emotions.
Your soul is decaying,
Your heart cracked and bruised.
But youâ??d never, ever,
Let anyone repair it.
There is no North Star,
No guidance,
Except from the inside.
Alone,
With only the road
That youâ??re standing on
And the similarly changing
Scenery.
The end is eternal,
Ethereal,
Not to be reversed.
And you feel it:
Abundant fear,
Absolute terror.
But you left yourself alone.
Truly, utterly, irrevocably
Alone.