Under the weirs of a willow tree,
Dusk has dawned upon me.
Somewhere with a tranquil scene,
The wind is whistling sharp and clean.
Clarity has blown my mind,
For my existence had been so kind.

This will be my final task,
As I finish me scotch from a flask.
The last infernal deed,
Concludes when my reason and the job succede.
Lurching forward from my pose,
When the darkness devours my clothes.

The moon snickers with delight,
The purity of my soul smothered by night.
The inevitable becomes ineludible,
As I approach an end to this infinite winding road.
It became obvious when the impossible,
Was enshrouded with reality and fate.
Suddenly my maker begins to unmake,
The puzzle of time and eternity.

As his very apprentice I must debate,
Taking from me that which I hate.
Grasping what so blindly I observed,
Although the thought came too late.
A responsibility I had not deserved,
That had been in my reach so long,
Discreetly yet not reserved,
Vanished without a trace.
Neither I nor my maker could replace,
What he had made of earth laced with the heavens.
 
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