He knew no road of righteousness,
Nor any path to noble salvation.
On his way, he was aware of only loyalty
Walking a street labelled desolation.
Any goodness was tinged by duty
Allowing the only trust in lies for belief.
Friendship was a conspired existence
As through life, he strolled as a thief.
Money or wealth was never his target.
He followed what other’s desired.
Obligations were heavy and demanding,
But he achieved all that was required.
When the thief was no longer effective
And the young took over his role
He found no strength inside his conscience,
Nor vigour inside his soul.
Silent and lonely the thief passed over.
His body to a grave deserted and bare.
Four strangers lowered his casket
To the arms of the dead who waited down there.
© 2018, Danny Kemp All rights reserved