Turning Point

Draw me out

until I am empty.

Cleanse my body

for the ride.

One last taste

of sweet ambrosia

before I see the other side.

I light a fire,

hide it’s light from view,

but it keeps me warm.

Does only what I need it to

and no more.

Any port in a storm.

 

These days,

the writing on the wall

is all but worn

away.

When I go,

don’t leave a single part

of me.

Use everything,

even the sinew,

even the teeth,

sharpen my bones

into spears,

that I might still defend

my family,

my friends.

 

Don’t leave me here to rot.

I’m draining myself empty,

void of every thought.

Even the angel on my shoulder

has gone

and got a life,

just like the devil

on the other

has laid claim to mine.

Such as it is with time.

 

We all know

deep down

we won’t survive.

There is nowhere to run,

no place to hide.

So I’ll stand here,

bare before the storm,

ready to move on

to another form.

Every word

will be my eulogy.

I promise,

I’ll take nothing with me.

 

HG – 2019

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