A story told, that was not yours to tell.
A part of me taken, that was not yours to take.
The Path on which you led me, that never was mine.
The life I created, made me feel like a fake.
Emotions unhandled, dreams that were lost,
Parts of me fell, others were tossed.
Grasping at smoke, no hold to be found,
When breathe would be up, I found myself down.
Few dim sparks of hope, shone Light through the Darkness.
Unwavering nightmare seemed only to blind.
No hope for the hopeless, no quenching of thirst,
A prisoner trapped in twisted confines of mind.
And so on it went, for year upon year,
Till all that I was, had been burnt and was spent.
Empty husk, hollowed vessel, crown of anger, base of fear,
Until Life said to me , “I’m not done with you yet…”