Haunted

More and more
The darkness haunts me
The memory of before I was
The stone sinking deeper into the sea
The inevitability of evil
Will it never change?

More and more
The sleepless nights
The failure to bring light
The stone sinks deeper, a rope attached around:
A noose around humanity

More and more
The breathing gets harder
The tears are dry, crude salt
A grayer soul has seen the tombs
A frayed body finds its limitations

Maybe he was right that knowledge burns and hardens the heart.
Maybe he was right that only Generals can set the tone.
Would a final offering, foregoing life’s sustenance itself, awaken?

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