A poem too soon

The road has no end, that's true
unfortunatly, all of our journeys do.

Countless destinations are beside the
path, overused, or never used & overgrown,
one is waiting for each of us, an
ending all our own.

All of us will find our rest,
some will say they did their best,
while others tend to thier wounds,
and ponder on the test.

The journey ends, the soul does not.
The rest we earned and dearly bought
will be put away and forgot
with the journey new.


I wrote that about three years ago. I never thought it would come to mind about a friend so soon.