When you get to the end of the road,
And all of your ‘special occassion’ energy is burned away,
You realise there was a reserve below it, full to the brim,
And another below that, so you must not
Give in, we all can rage against the dying of the light,
Because that is ‘the spirit’, as the Americans say,
That separates us from the inanimate objects we deem to adore,
That desire for our own and other’s peace,
And maybe a little bit more.