What Now
A year finally ended
has taken its pain with it;
no more tears can be shed
all that was, is just simply dead.
Last of the grievances turned to dust;
there's nothing more to grind
all my axes have turned to rust.
All that remains is this question
in the soul,
where now will this writer go
when pain no longer leads?
I shall have to find a new hope
perhaps this year will bring peace.
A year finally ended
has taken its pain with it;
no more tears can be shed
all that was, is just simply dead.
Last of the grievances turned to dust;
there's nothing more to grind
all my axes have turned to rust.
All that remains is this question
in the soul,
where now will this writer go
when pain no longer leads?
I shall have to find a new hope
perhaps this year will bring peace.