The ashen sunrise from Autumnal dawn,
Arouses me to how much pain has spread,
The revelation of you being gone,
And silent wish that I was with the dead.
Desperate to quell the knife from twisting,
Agony in life that's spent alone,
Carry on this shell of life persisting,
Abusing every upturned rock and stone,
The flesh is seared and branded with your handprints,
A life you coveted and later cast aside,
Will this heart hurt less with further mends and treatments?
Or is it time to crash into the tide?