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Poem

Where I once said forever,
I then said not much longer.
Where it once felt like never,
I then got ever stronger.

6 months left became 6 weeks,
which became 6 days.
What havoc and hope time wreaks,
what mayhem and miracles it plays.

I once wrote about, and wished for,
'one day' - as longing, as pure need.
Every one of them led to leaving the Corps,
and to my life I finally own the deed.

'One can keep going ... given that one day';
such was my litany against the storm.
The tenth of January saw me at last go my own way,
desiring 'one more day' instead of just one, now the norm.

That one more day still matters to me,
but it isn't a resistance anymore.
Now it means fine fate, cheerful chance to be,
no longer the ammunition for an internal war.

It's permeated even mundane events,
like a small gathering, a few weeks ago.
A day-long reunion with some of my favorite gents,
turned into two when we couldn't let the party go.

It's sad to say it wasn't this way for years,
but it's amazing to be wanted again.
To have my company treasured, to truly have peers,
'tis so unimaginably different than how I've been.

One more day of feeling rekindled, reborn,
one more day, going wherever my chosen roads lead.
One more day to only my decisions and consequences sworn,
one more day, from an era that yet boils the blood, freed.

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