In His Beloved's Arms

 
There was black ice on the bridge
And the night was dark and cold
But he couldn’t wait to see her
Driving all night was brave and bold

He parked his car across the street
Then softly knocked on her door
But it seemed like no one was home
So he sat disheartened on the floor

He decided to go back to the car
But to his luck the car was stolen
So he decided to take long walk
Until his feet hurt and were swollen

He came upon an old shabby motel
But the lobby was vacant and empty
No one answered the desk bell
As the clock on the wall said five-twenty

He fell asleep there in the lobby couch
He didn’t wake up until later that night
He’d been so tired he slept all day
And decided to walk back quite in plight

The roads were lonely and desolate
No cars seemed to drive in the street
The houses were quite and dark
Except air carried the sound of his feet

He knocked on her door again
Still there was no one home
He thought of asking for help
Or least to use the phone

But no one opened their doors
As if everyone had disappeared
So he decided to walk back again
All this seemed a little too weird

As he walked down that road
He saw a car driving by
Tired he extended his thumb
And gladly asked for ride

An old priest stopped the car
And said “are you ok son?”
“My car was stolen” he said
“I’m sorry” he said stunned

They drove for nearly half an hour
In that long and lonely dark road
As the young man spoke of love
And how his passion never slowed

The priest suddenly slammed the brakes
And ran out frightened out of the car
Scampering into a near-by open diner
Leaving the engine running and door ajar

Confused the young man got out
Looking around to see what happened
Then slowly walked to the same diner
Scared, angry and also saddened

He sat distraught in a corner booth
Glad to see some patrons there
But he scanned and didn’t see the priest
Wondering why he left in despair

He waited but no one paid attention
Only hearing the sound of a T.V. screen
As the reporter said “ghost story”
He looked up and thought it was dream

“Locals report that they see a shadow
Of man walking at night in the streets”
His attention was now on the screen
As some of the patrons edged in their seats

“He was driving into town” the T.V. said
Coming to reconcile with his estranged wife
But the icy road conditions on that night..
....at the bridge and he lost his life”

That’s not true, he said to himself
“It’s true” a voice said behind the counter
An old waitress told some customers
“Some people have had an encounter”

“About five years ago” she continued
“A priest done come in here screaming
Saying he picked up a young man
Then disappeared like he’d been dreaming

They say he knocks on house doors
But when they open, no one is there
It’s as if he’s been asking for help
The way he must’ve died in despair”

“That’s not true” the young man yells
And runs out slamming the diner door
Running fast to his beloved’s arms
Trying to forget this cruel horror

By the next night he forgets the nightmare
Parking his car across the lonely street
Excited to hold his beloved in his arms
As the air carries the sound of his feet...