And Yet

A Prayer for the Burdened

Crumbling Under Weight

I carry for no reason

My shoulders and back burdened

By life

By the invisible band of thieves, muggers and murderers

By the streaking tear

By the shrieking fear

That tells me lies construed to disguise

All truth to the contrary

My back and shoulders burdened

I collapse into dust, like a tower of controlled demolition

Isolation is my company

No dream left to dream

No inhale, no exhale

The stillness of smoldering embers

In the aftermath of this war against my sanity

Thoughts spiral downward in beliefs all too familiar

It is too late

You are not enough

This is your fate

There is no love

And yet …

As the embers cool

A reminder to the fool

The ash and dust replaced

By the face behind the face

By the sun behind the eclipse

By the seed buried deep in soil

We play the foil to our foreign, over-dramatic selves

Once burdened – our back and shoulders

Someone has moved aside the boulders

Escaping the cave of eternal death

Plato ushers us around the corner to perceive

All that is truly to be seen

The truth

It is never too late

For the below is above

You control your own fate

You are the love