A man who has reached his goals.
He now knows not where to go.
Now that, he has finished.
All the objectives he had placed there, for himself.
Reduced to coasting through.
Coasting through the motions.
No desire for striving forward.
For he knows not now where to go.
Or would he feel content?
Feeling comfort and feeling complete.
Looking back finding pride.
In all that he has done.
Accomplishment adorn the walls.
And they adorn his self.
As he looks around the room, he begins to smile.
For in the eyes of man, for in the eyes of the world, he is young.
His mind and heart feel old.
There is nothing that he now desires.
To go beyond.
For he is tired.
The man has reached...
The man has reached all of his goals.
He closes his eyes, for one last time...
A smile upon his face.
As he, embraces the end.
Is this a tragedy?
Or this a tale of beauty?
Do we be sad for him?
Do we, do we be sad for this man?
Or should we be glad for him?
Not possessing the drive, to find new compass in life.
Or see beauty, for he had-
Accomplished, all that he had desired.
All that, he had placed before himself.
As motivation, to press on.
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