Epitaph

Dreams shattered like dry clay
The mirage ended in harsh day
Cruel reality comes to stay
and fantasies fall away
No brightness, color or cheer
Nothing but dark gray murk
No one to love or care, or hold dear
and misery continues to lurk
Dusty ashes in a dry mouth
Sand on the parched ground
Arid winds from the south
The soul's pain, a baying hound
Torn and empty and worn
Falling tears yet afraid of scorn
Far away now and alone
Empty, numb, and hard as stone
Seek, hope, strive, aspire no more
To end the fruitless weary race
No fire, power, strength at core
Too weak to maintain the pace
Many faces I can not bear
Many voices I no longer hear
On a precipice I stand
I must fall, I can not withstand
And so a silent final goodbye
To this unfeeling unknowing land



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This story is 147 words long.