Unwilling Claims
R RoseAnn V. Shawiak
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There are no more stories to tell of life and it's rendezvous
with living.
Falling back upon a rocking chair, sitting alone, in a world
of your own, knowing only sadness.
Belonging now lost on future horizons, passed by on the path
of succinct possibilities.
Rasping the essence of interior thought with sour emotion felt
by barbaric contemplation.
Walking so slowly, heart dripping sorrowfully, filled once
with the promise of love.
Now death has crept in and stolen the lace of happiness,
ripping it from depths of being.
So intense is the pain that life cannot hold it for a second
more.
Spilling out upon the ground, kneeling for the mercy never
given, as reality fights and stands relentlessly in the way.
Pulling and grabbing the very within of all life inside out,
leaving it bloody, dying on the dust of remorse, alone and
forsaken.
Never again taken up nor brought too close because the pain
is far too much to claim.
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