Eyes Down

Mud stuck in the path he tread
Walked on, each step like a gun to his head
Closer to and further from the worn cliff edge
Eyes down, to the foot of Beachy Head
Found below in the grasses and the hard rock dry,
He found himself between a harder rock and place
Sinking in unison with the Earths’ face
Kept so long from the turning tide
Wanting and waiting
His last wish: to die
The world he departed would have it denied
But he took what was his and overruled with his life
Those who stand above the grass so dry
Who are made to question the blueness of the sky
And how it seems grey on the warmest of days
More than one person dies when the death is of the person inside
The newspaper writes as an echo from the court, Verdict: suicide
The words stick on paper like words in the throat, already there but never really spoke
And they question the completeness of this expanse
An exit like the rain
That tears apart a cloud and makes tears rolling, dance
A silent thief comes and takes all but doubt, subtle as a scream out loud
They read again the plaques
And they ask ‘why?’
Seems the things he fought were more than the fight to stay alive
Not enough words to add to the words already there,
No limit on the tears they cry,
To stop others walking by
Through the polish we see reason
He saw blank cold metal
With shiny edges that cut his eyes, the opposite, he realised
What is a prayer or a hand to a man who is past despair?
Is there a cure for beyond repair?
Promise on top of threat, can’t feel now, no Love nor pain, can no longer regret
Help and life refused, the very life he used to live and leave his way
As grief confusion chokes,
No fence tall enough
Footsteps are left and followed in the path he did tread
The wind now carries the words he spoke,
And he had said: To save his life and live would have been his very death