I walk through life as a headless soul,
No rhyme, no reason, no pattern, no hold.
Treading water, and then counting time,
each hour goes by, as if stacked in a line.
Through Days, weeks, months,these years,
All seem the same, to my eyes and ears.
Mud and sand, from beach and from land,
pass through fingers, in each of my hands.
Where this life takes me, I do not know,
Along the final walk then to the final door....