
Walk alone, a mind filled with dreary
Life not friendly nor mindful to the needy
Have not the energy, tortured and weary
Chances of survival robbed by the greedy
And all those dreams forgotten
Would they be anywhere but buried
The stench of thy pain in the room so rotten
Waiting you are, away you'll be carried
Many things were not done during your time in the light
Regrets for mistakes and things that needed to be done
An escape it was, one for which you did fight
Never knowing you had no more days in the sun
It pulls and pulls, like the Earth's gravity
Escape from it if you can
There's no more fights for you, an end to the depravity
Your too weakened to respond to what hits the fan
Life left you to face such a horrid calamity
Now fearing not a chance to finish your plan
Like the arms of time, the pulling continues
Each day, a new horror comes for the son
Despite all the wrongs, this is not what you choose
But like always, you know there's things to be done
Slower must you go as the hands pull harder
Now, heat begins to rise
From beneath you, it will come as you get farther
Beginning to see the glow of its eyes
The grasp, inescapable for mere mortals, you fear
Faster comes the debt all who walk this Earth will pay
Look not to the devils whisper in your ear
Trust that this is not that day
Lay peacefully in the still of the night
Closed eyes see memories of a happier past
Sinking feelings fought off with righteous might
Tomorrow comes unless today was your last
Alone again you are
Facing the demons of the grand plan
Not one knows how torridly far
You went to protect the vulnerable of man
Split were you on rights and wrongs
Now time has come for your judgment
Hear the clock tick until the twelve gongs
Those who loved you will know to where you went
Yet they will be wrong
About the Creator
Jason Ray Morton
Writing has become more important as I live with cancer. It's a therapy, it's an escape, and it's a way to do something lasting that hopefully leaves an impression.



Comments (3)
Now this one feels like me, Jason. Editorial note: "Your too weakened to respond to what hits the fan" should be "You're...."
Very insightful, regret, longing, a feeling of being lost and forgotten.
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