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