Putting the Ghost to Rest

Here I am to raise up one last glass to the Could-Have-Beens

It’s not been an easy road. Nor does the road look much smoother before us.

And here we are at fork in the road, where you turn one way and I the other

I think this is goodbye. I think this is the end. I think that was the grand finale.

One last fight for the road.

One last memory to spoil the rest.

One last tear to blot the ink.

I move on though the path is thorny and the sky is dark.

I move on and you move on and lest we ever meet again we have that final deal to keep us apart.

This is for the best. Only the searing pain of the red hot knife can cauterize the bleeding heart.

No love. No friendship. No future. No past.

One weary traveler passes another in the night.

Who am I to expect more.

Raise your glasses, you men of future, you bold travelers of memory

Raise your drinks and salute the end of dreams and fantasies.

Raise your spirits, for you have survived the past

Raise your arms, for you should dance with joy

Raise your flames and burn the past, burn the bridges, burn and burn and burn, burn for you do not know, burn with passion, burn with rage, burn with pain in the way that only you know.

Good night dream. Sleep well you future imagined.

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