Beckoning Graves


No mystery involved

as I watched you evolve

into the shell of a man that you are today,

broken and defeated

The lure of the poison

you ingest with such passion

turned the strong woodsman that once was

into a ghost, weak and desperate

Where once my heart held compassion,

viewing endless efforts to free yourself

from insatiable demons, this heart now

harbors only apathy

If I were a better person,

I might wish your slow motion suicide

be merciful and swift, if only to

provide your loved ones some relief

If I controlled the universe,

I might limit your options for self destruction,

these tools of death, if only to

bide a little time to choose a different path

If I could speak with a higher power,

I might join the angry rant, condemning

the desecration of a life thrown away

with such disregard for what once had promise

This I know to be true

Your choices are yours and mine are deliberate

as I keep what is precious to me safe

from ghosts that walk among us

photo:  © Copyright Martin Dawes and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence



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