Fear and Bereavement

Is there ever a good time

For a good thing to end?

I say I’ll be fine, but

Into Hell, I descend

At least, that’s my destination

I’m walking down the obsidian path

Knowing well it’s of my own creation

Unsure of the aftermath..

Of when I walk through

Those burning gates

That’s when I lose you..

But it’s already too late

We’re both compelled forward

By the standards of our culture

A fulfilling career, we each move toward..

But what circles above is vulture

It smells our connection

Though we thought it unbreakable

Our gleaming affection

Seems to be salable

Able to be sold

For career and achievement

The tax of growing old

Fear and bereavement

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