The man enters,
come home to rest and to die,
wary of his tormenters,
but no longer does he plead nor cry;

For now he knows,
what he knew not before,
he knows of pain and reason,
no more of the lesson shall he implore;

For he failed his lessons of life,
teachers slashing with red ink angrily,
and he merely stood aside,
fairly aware of some surreal reality;

and now his life is at an end,
no friends gathered to cheer nor weep,
no sound waking from uncovered graves,
and his dawning death reality transcends;

Now the tears come,
for now he knows,
of what could have been and what was lost,
and finally, his awareness grows;

But it is too late for this now,
This he knows too,
though his struggles, fighting well but in vain,
for now the cards have been seen,
the tables and streets swept clean,
and in his head,
no more voices or apparitions are heard nor dreamed...