I was born under the archer, a sign
of things to come. Perhaps. I don't put stock
in that kind of thing. A good God-fearing
woman became my wife, pleasing the prayers
of my mother's resting soul. That's as much
as one can hope for - so fleeting a life.
As this. I met my demons along the way
and learned to keep them at arm's length:
my angels I've embraced with devotion
and passion, their kind words, gentle mercies
always at my beck and call. Open roads
await, invite me: I pause, declining
options. My blessings in these golden years
outweigh my curses' woes.
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I’m transfixed by the last lines.