Those were yesterdays
I turned in my blinds like a clam
and patiently waited for the stars to spin
luminescent threads to carry me yonder
into a realm of painlessness
Did my hope spring from a divine promise
that gave me all that determination with its kiss?
That I could whistle whispers of solace
from a brink bereft of sanity’s whist
To hope that the sand is soft on the feet
where the rough seas retreat
But must I solemnly meet
a today’s ferocious sleet
take me with its teeth?
Angst over that I have to be brave
right up to my grave
An unbearable pain is eating the guts of my foundation
Fortitude’s engine is losing steam at this station
The warrior feels broken from belied expectation
The inclement shows no sign of dissipation
Is succour no rope, but a straw?
Can my future be only at war?
I touch my resilience, and it turns to wounds that are raw
I look at the horizon with askance, not awe
too good
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