Turning around,
looking back,
I see the bitter past.
Ahead,
in front,
lies the future,
dimly reflective.
All that I was,
I am again,
yet now
shattered ruins lay
strewn upon
the path.
I am not whole
without the presence
of those
a part of me.
The light fades
and darkness
surrounds me.
Without the missing,
I can not go on.
No will to fight,
no courage to face it.
Yet I do,
on and on.
For what,
I do not know.
My friends
have all left;
my family has followed
close behind.
I am left standing,
a shovel in hand,
and shackles upon
my heart.
How long
do you suppose
it would be
before
rotting flesh
took notice?
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