Passing over...

An old man in his rocking chair... His failing eyes staring into the blank space where the fire has gone out in the fireplace long ago... His withered parched face wrinkled in a smile... as he reminisced about his past...

He has forgotten about the painful, sorrowful, regretful times. He has his eyes only on the happy moments where the devil cannot reach him. He recalls the happiness which was at its truest form at their moments, not tainted by any aftermath.

He remembers the musical voices when they were filled with love, not tainted by the harsh reality that followed. He remembers those times with fondness and ached that they could not be realised.

The devil comes... Let him come... He will use these as his shield. He will use his honed experience through pain and regret as his spear. He still has one last battle and he will live on to witness the future...