Becoming despondent along the way because everything in this little life must be done alone.
No one to turn to for love and kindness, direction or guidance.
Saturated in the grief of time, no where to go for relief.
Tears, unwept, building a wall – a fortress – inside me for protection against life’s cruelty and perplexing, non-existent meanings.
Waylaid throughout all seasons, unfettered, unbalanced and tossed upon stormy seas.
No anchors or places to rest along the way.
Tired and weary of this seemingly endless trek across years of time, always folded in a pile away from other human’s and their social wiles.
Bereft of companionship or solace, meaningless tasks to keep busy are no longer enough to keep me going.
Stopping, planning no more detailed explanations, drifting down byways left to me, closer every moment to meanings of death and it’s insistent pleas to give in and rest eternally.
No longer tied to life’s fragile strings of perpetual sorrow and strife.
Leaving all to yesterday, looking forward to today’s hoped for demise.
Persuaded no more to linger on the edge, instead letting go with all my might to new insights beyond this mortal world.

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