Journey to Your Deepest Self

Despair

She trembles with fear Her hand shakes As the wine glass is raised to lips Ever thirsty Ever quenched Ever dry Ever hungry Ever spitting Foulness and stench All the children have been killed The mothers too She is the last one Some were killed with hatred and violence But most were simply neglected Until they ceased to exist She is the last one and She fears for her life And yet, For her death Sometimes she wonders at life’s tenacity At how hard it is to die Given how hard it is to live But mostly she just trembles and Holds on Waiting She forgets to want anything It was the children who wanted And they are gone Every moment is only Watching and waiting And without the children She is like wallpaper Like wood Like dirt Everything she is Depends on what’s next And since what’s next is never grasped Never quite gotten to Always beyond She is nothing And the longer she is nothing The bigger she grows And the more...
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