This disparaging
                             Quality of my own
  Innocence.
                    Has been Shrouded,
                              Burned,
Ashes scattered,
                          Nary a Hope of
                                     Return.
  Though Now
                    Mine Eyes
     Detect a Forward
                                 Purpose.
Glimmering
                   Whisper of
Further Life
            Once Not
                              Thought Possible.
           Once, Never a
                                  Consideration.

Each day Burns
              With the
Weary awareness of mine non-actions.
       Still aligning Priorities.

From those Ashes,
            This Being Has Risen.
Is Striking Back.
           Carving Forth.
Turning Words.
              Into Every Lived Desire.



**July 6th-ish 2014