What now? Aims I have none, routine nigh done

The nine to five, back & forth, kids, left none.

And what of her, my betrothed, only beloved,

A croup, a someone, an Other, far removed,

Strangers, we live on, under one roof.

What must I think now, action-inaction,

The days ahead, whither now?

I roam, chamber to chamber, lantern in hand,

Is this my crossroad, or a crossing mere?

Strange are these paths, known unknown,

Straight, long, narrow and square.

While I re-search a semblance of sanity,

There sits she, upright, soaking in my light,

Who is this? Who am i? O what a strange plight.

An aim, a goal must I find.

Even a shadow of grace, to end this phase.

My grief to dust grind, seek my place.

A brief insanity – an aimless man,

even the Earth would ban.