Thoughts turn to the terminus,
No matter my banishing them.
The road nears the cul de sac,
Which I will sooner and surrend.
No comfort that it's not I, one.
Best each alone will exit
In pain or peace, who knows?
Prepare but mostly know
Thy days are fewer than you've had.
See how I avoid and place
What is only essentially mine
To a you, not me, as if I
Would exit even this.
I'll have inevitably my and own.
