I Thought I was Free

Wed, 09/30/2015 - 14:23 -- Erysian

As I look all around me,

I think of everything happening

and weep; I thought I was free,

but it seems I am returning;

to the thing painful to be,

made of emotion constantly turning.

A creature  born of ash, post-flame,

This thing inside me, heavily came,

It is my burden, my crystal sorrow

that I wear, long to the morrow.

And filled with dread am I

listening to whispering a going by

of lost friendships, broken promises

forged in wars of no compromises.

This poem is about: 
Me

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