In the darkest recesses, embedded in veins and fluid
beats a life force, completely stripped bare.
bare of trust; of love; of comforts; of companionship.
futile in all efforts, the sea of hope dries.
the pain of yester-years, intricately sketched in scars,
so soft, pliant and dark!
maybe one day it will all end in praise.
or bereft left to tell a dark tale,
maybe’s, all these maybe’s…
they drown in time the flood: remaining constant,
ever constant, resolutely constant.
will you be the last to end all sorrows…
or are we to “expect another”
a Messiah desperate in the taking of time.