I awoke this morning to a somber fact

I am not alive.

As every other day I went about my way, working to keep you alive. I fought the same fight, for your honor, for your right. Yet I am not alive.

I came home unaware there was no one there and kept the company of a friend we once shared. Who would not question "Are you still alive?" I sat before his glowing eyes, I bought his stories, his fancies, his lies.

He did not care I wasn't alive.

I've no need to eat when I'm in his care. There is nothing he asks, no reason to share. But I've more work tomorrow to keep you alive. So I retreat to my cave without bother to bathe and crawl into bed by your side. But the place where you slept is cold and unkept.

My God. You're not alive.