JOURNEY

I walked an hundred miles with two vagrants at my side
Over barren farmland past the ocean with no tide
We journeyed past the hills into the burning desert's breath
The hundred mile journey that the angels have named death

We spoke of life in length at last and loved ones we had lost
We shared our views on poverty and spared no chary cost
We spoke of life eternal and what lies beyond the grave
The Elysian fields of Heaven or the nothingness of space

The first man spoke of riches he gained along the way
He made a life from naught and never worked a single day
He bragged about his skill and how he lived his life in ease
'Till greedier men than he had finally brought him to his knees.

The last man spoke but seven times before the journey's end
His words revealed a broken heart and greater love within
He talked about his mother and forgiving angry men
A simple plea for water and rejoicing in the end

As I crossed the final dune and looked back on my life
I saw the hills, the farmland and the ocean with no tide
I saw the crosses on the hill from whence our journey came
I turned and looked into the void which marks our journeys' grave

Again, I heard the last man speak with triumph and with song
Why should this man walk by our side when he has done no wrong
Before that last eternal step I looked into his eyes
He smiled and said today you will go home to paradise