Shuffled feet, raspy breath, mangled hair, he was the picture of despair
His eyes were blood shot as he reached out in the dark
His hands flayed helplessly but there was no one there
All he could see were the scars on his hands, every single mark

Trudged on without any direction as forward was the only way
He knew he couldn’t go back not when he’d just escaped
Going forward however was not as easy as they say
It didn’t seem to get any better, he could not see another day

Weak he was, feet heavy, his heart was starting to slow down
All the demons he’d left behind were starting to catch up
It was in his most grave hour did he see far ahead, a town
Finally he thought, I’ll get a bed to rest and some tea, a nice hot cup

Little did he know that it was here he would find his bliss
In the middle of nowhere, in the mist, this little old place
Walked into the bar and there she was, impossible to miss
They talked all night long and he had finally found solace

She held him close, looked after his wounds, nurtured him
She gave him food, shelter, clothes but all he wanted was the embrace
It was in her arms that he slept, eyes watered as the light dim
He slipped in and out and the only thing he could see was her face

Three days later they buried him beneath the shade of a willow tree
His tombstone read, “ We hope he finds what he was searching for”
However he looked down from above and smiled with glee
Her grave was right beside his, there was nothing he was searching for anymore.