THOSE DAYS

Those days, I still remember for they took from me all I had to give and yet wanted more.

My answer; “There is no more,” was rejected with prejudice, and to be quiet, I was told.

Though I dwelt on land, I was in a tempest sea with a feeble light far and far away seemingly beyond all my resources. The comfort of others who were struggling did little to allay my distress for lack, and need surrounded me and mine.

From prison came one who wished to be a friend, but he added no strength to my ubiquitous wearisome state. To work with me was his desire but his sicknesses overruled his desire, and effort to the point where I must carry his load as well as mine.

He spoke well but could accomplish naught while on his knees, expelling the food he had eaten. While in prison his virulent daily fare had ruined his entrails, and from this he could never recover and surly not be my brother.

And so they came and went, leaving only a mark that spoke of their attempt at success, but only experienced failure.

Desire was lost in the darkness and hope had become thread bare, reason has become useless, and determination left the premises.

Sadness was the high point of existence and joy has never been known for all is darkness for the soul that is lost.