Death Has Become Him Again
The first rays of light are seen from his hole.
He's climbed his way out and restored his soul.
He takes a glance at his skin; it's teeming with scars,
And he wonders aloud how he had fallen so far.
It matters not now; the Sun, it has risen,
He's finally freed from his internal prison.
He's bathed in the day, though he is broken.
A heart filled with joy; no words need be spoken.
But the joy soon recedes, and is replaced by despair.
He's clawing for breath in a space with no air.
He resides in a hell where all light is expunged.
He's fallen again, and into darkness is plunged.
Copyright © Danny Stinson | Year Posted 2011
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