The Last House On the Left
Tagged: Poetry
How do you know
When you've found the
Last house
And the road continues on?
How do you know when you've tasted
That last warm glass of wine,
The last time to feel the heat of fiery passion?
How do you know this moment is the last to see
A friends familiar face, to pet an old dog,
always there
To feel your lover's eyes upon you,
Or see the front door to the safety of your home?
How do you know that was the last house,
When the road continues on?
The only way to understand or know,
To perceive or apprehend,
Is to pass the place, to go beyond, continuing:
Ever searching ever looking ever watching
Till there's nowhere left to go.
And then the knowing comes... the knowing.
The day ends, the sun sets. Darkness.
There's no more road, no travel in the night.