when release grows imminent
and all the living harm
lies open and festering on the nerves
you've heard the promises of succor
that ease the breaking down
but none of the actual sound of pain
gaining that sanction
and only in the dying silence
does the flash of knowing come
you pushed until your body quit
and played the fool in the bargain
for an afterlife as gray as earthly time
the harvesting of your crop and with it your deliverance
Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito.
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