the end

in laboured breath,
and worrying eyes,
a man lies on a deathbed,
around stands an angel,
in a dark cloak,
and his journey is replayed...
in pain he sees the road,
he did take,
and his every step,
walk,
leap,
jump,
fall,
crawl,
shown to his dry eyes,
and to every diversion,
he had,
lights up,
and every veer,
a cause shown,
and to it,
the end results,
and to every soul he did hurt,
to every life he did kill,
and every built he did destroy,
smiles back,
at his sorry self,
and the book closes,
to a sad end,
and the clock stops,
the angel atop,