To have pulled my face so low
I am burdened by my grief
Ever so present in every line and space
That the air I breathe out
Has noxious plumes of toxins
That worm into those who now no longer stay
I am sorrowful of my woes
They ever so slowly seep into my being
Into the crevices of my existence
My soul throbbing in fear
As the guilded cage of love and light
Rattles to keep the tendrils away
No it shouldn't be so
But it is such
How can a spiritual being live when the dead permit the space of living so often than not ?
I should not be a puppet of fear
Nor be submissive to my pain
Yet here I am both a master and a slave
This life I strove to create from precious threads of thought and existence
Is oh so woeful I know not where we go from here
Where do we go my love ?
