Road's End

I'm a fiction writer, but have recently started writing poems. This one's called "Road's End". Warning: some of you might find the following poem a bit "dark".

As the man hurried toward his goal, he saw a sign that said,
Warning – Caution – This road ends – one kilometre ahead.
Should he stop and turn around, reflect on where he’d been?
Or stay the course, take the road less travelled, see what he hasn’t seen?

He’d made a lot of choices, to get so far, so fast.
Some good, some bad, some in between – perhaps the die was cast.
Sometimes the road was straight and smooth, other times it was terribly rough.
But now the road was ending, he wondered if he’d done enough.

He’d read the maps, and charted his course, the best route was so clear.
But now that he was near the end, he had to admit his fear.
Should he have taken more exits, more stops along the way?
Worked harder to maintain the car, invested more each day?

His headlights lit up another sign, just around the bend.
It said that there was no way out; it was surely a dead end.
But he kept his foot firmly on the gas; he showed his courage now.
He had to trust this was the way; he wiped the sweat from his brow.

What would happen when it ended? Would the road just disappear?
Or would it end with white sand beaches, and water, oh so clear?
Would it end with a huge collision – a big bang, so to speak?
Or would he have to make a new path, only visible to those who seek?

There had been a lot of advisors, who told him the route to take.
But each man must find his own path; it’s his life, for goodness sake.
He had to have faith the path he was on, would deem his future well.
He hoped this was the road to paradise, and not the road to Hell.

As he crested the hill he was welcomed, by all who he held dear.
His father had kept his promise; he had no reason to fear.
He said, “this road’s not easy. I’m sure you had frustrations.”
He smiled and took him by the hand, “You have reached your destination”.