Alone, you stand, as you always have,
In a Time unlike your own.
Resurrected only by memory,
You know where you must return,
For now is not your Time.
Donning trousers which are not your own, and
A Life similarly unfamiliar.
Run, run, you dreadful brute.
Escape what you used to know.
All that remains
A toxic cocktail of bittersweet envy.
Your pale fingers plead once more,
Extend outwards, and beg.
Beg for another chance.
Beg for one more day.
Beg for a single moment.
Though, the unkind creature refuses.
You know where you must return.
I know where you must return.
