In air, smoky and thick, I breathe
a sigh of relief, relieved to be free.
All the years that have passed,
lived dwelt on the past
Have passed; gone to their death.
With a heart as heavy as my body does feel,
I remember it vaguely, as though nothing was real-
In the day, nothing but a distant memory;
At night, a dream that haunts me.
Because the past does still exist.
A fire was lit, so bright and so warm,
took shape as a child, so gentle in form;
but the perils of life, and life\'s cruel way
made sure that the fire lasted not past the day.
And the night\'s were cold.
I began to wish a fate unforgiving.
My dreams, suddenly, no longer worth wishing.
A heaviness, a blackness, a fog had descended;
the fire was out, and my will, it had ended.
Living was no more than a chore.
To glide through life without a care
is to many a wish, for they were not there.
When the nights were dark and my will had waned
and I cared no longer to see sunlight again.
Tomorrow was decades away.
The sunlight came, but I was not grateful;
The morning, noon, night, they were too painful,
scarred is the pale skin which houses my soul,
and I feel that in years I shall still not be whole.
But I live.