Pilgrimage

I stand upon a broken brook
That twists and turns with a chime
Clink!
It sounds once
And fades away to nothing
Before returning

Clink!
I cannot escape its strength
There is no land that will provide
For me
A Hell, a Heaven, or even Limbo
Would be preferable to know-

Clink!
-ing that infernal cry
That haunts my every step
And repentance
But you don’t know the worst

That tender hope
You must always treasure
When you lose it, you are lost
And no water will reach you
And you will know no flame

I have hoped
For half a century
That if I talk
I won’t remember-

Clink!

-my misery.