Beggar, Bag & Beat It Up

The road stretched for miles
as if knew it no end.
It pierced the far mountains,
without bump or a bend –

A young man, now old,
to the paths he had trod,
Sat on a tree stump,
an old ragged log –

Above clouds had gathered,
and hung on up high.
As the threat of a storm
brought a tear to his eye –

But he’d been here before,
and had witnessed this storm.
And had cast his own doubt,
On surviving ‘till morn –

For so many times,
He had tried on this path,
This journey to ‘somewhere’,
Which had engulfed his own past.

And as sin for his crimes,
He had strayed from the test.
Despaired at his will,
At his failure to last.

But now – it was different -
as it was before.
For his legs could not carry him,
on much further.

This time it mattered,
this time it was real.
And this time the journey,
was starting to feel -

Like it wasn’t for him,
like a gift to his soul.
Like a journey on ashes,
and it would take it’s own toll.

And verges on anguish,
would await by the side.
And depths of the darkness,
would await and would hide.

But within him he echoed,
the words of a ghost.
Who once took his hand,
at a time he was lost.

The wise words still ringing a dance in his ear;
Touched him inside, made the mountains draw near.
They said, “Faith, she may tempt you, -
Oh, if given the chance –
Just don’t let her tempt you,
My Friend, more than once.”

And with this he took one step,
and looked far up ahead.
And another he took,
as he walked from the edge.

For whatever lay far,
on this path he embraked,
He would face it, and pace it,
and would set down his mark.

He would beggar & bag it,
and he would beat the dust up,
As he walked to the distance,
for enough was enough…

Written By Shane Ferguson
On 2nd November 2009