Nighttime is the only time to die

She sees a ghost in the white curl of sand
Starlit gypsum, beckoning hand
The trace of the highbeams flicker and die
Behind her is calm, but the night is high

It’s been a long road coming here, the end of the line
I’ve been searching too long, with nothing to find
Lonely, though he’s been standing right there
It shouldn’t be this way, he’s touching her hair

Almost 50 years it was better or worse
They held on to something, maybe a curse
But death in the desert when you’re too tired to fight
There’s a reward in the ending, quiet death in the night.


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