It wasn’t an accomplishment,
laying in half cocked heather,
grey as dawn
shrouded final breaths,
beads of dew
glistening silvery webs
rolling tracks down sodden cheeks.

It was no effort
holding that heart to rest
in a myriath of broken promises and lies
an Avalon too far to reach
a hairs breath,
exhaled, lost in watery mist.

I thought I heard
my name whispered
just as the pale ray reached
this mire,
and I lost tomorrow
amidst the thrall
of today.

Put me out of my misery people!

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