Reflection of a Friend Revisited:

The Ending Was Written in The Beginning

 I sit here tonight thinking about the plight

 you are in, knowing the ending was written

 in the beginning, not so long ago.

You turned aside the echoed forebodings casting

their ill fated shadows on the future to become,

turning away from those who sought to avert the

 pending doom,  their cries of warning ignored,

the pathway was  then shaped for the

 ending written in the beginning.

Confined, surrounded now by thick, tall,

 dark walls of steel and concrete, so strong

I  can not reach  to touch, or embrace, to

 hold or feel; time seizes the memories

 to seal shut behind  the cold, cold

 blue-grey gates of  iron rods.

Nights without lights, filled with sights

of clutter, confusion, and conflict; voices rise

in recrimination, the inner core shudders,

shivers, and shies as though fleeing from

a fearful arriving doom.

The competing struggles you faced, unresolved,

brought you down, the open wounds of times past

left swollen and festering, oozing with pain

 so sorrowful to bare, ignored they burst open

to bring about your fall. 

What is now to be written in this beginning

to give meaning to the finish; what ending will this

chapter tell in reflection of a friend? Will surrender

 to the disquieting malaise lingering just

beneath the surface be the finish, or will

 the ending tell of a rise above it all to conquer

the wounds of times now gone past?

The ending is always written in the beginning;

chose most carefully the journey to travel,

for yes, my friend, the ending is always

... always written in the beginning.

tedc Oct. 1, 2004

Dedicated to my friend

Scott V