In the End
In the summer of life, on that longest day
You can laugh all year fears away
And in the twilight of years, you can sleep
Through the longest of nights
No appointments to keep
In the end it’s all the same
The days go by, each one paid in full
Each one left to unwind
All doubts are clear
When that nightshade draws near
In the end it’s all the same
In my forefather’s graves
No more masters or slaves
Lie there now
In the end it’s all the same
In that long winter’s night
You can fight it
Or right it before the dawn closes in
But in that moment of truth
Where you are isn’t quite what it seems
You forget all those dreams
In the end it’s all the same
©1995 Glen F. Nemeth • All Rights Reserved
1993. I've often heard death described as the great equalizer of us all.
Regardless of our stations in life, our accomplishments, our achievements,
whatever we think really matters, they are all humbled before the Grim Reaper.
This was a year of extremes for me. I was strung out on meth,
and I was living among crackheads, whores and ex-convicts. Anyone of them
could have taken me out, and I knew this. Oddly enough, I was still working,
and still writing. I credit the continuity of my work and writing experience
for getting me through this phase.
— Glen
In the End