Step by Hope Filled Step

The dust settling
In wake of Panic Attack
Mark II completed

Mark III yet to come
You will wish, pray for the end
Yet never see it

The dead called lucky
"... The day of my birth perish..." (Job 3:3)//
//"... Those who curse days curse that day..." (Job 3:8)
Yet no one replies 

Crushed ego remains
I've done this one already
Days and years tallied

When you can say "same"
Maybe your letter to God
Won't say "RTS."

Lonely is The Bard (Muse)
A whirling dervish self spun
When fountain ran dry

Spare me your complaints
You ask one whom you torture
To mourn hurt feelings

I waste my breath here
I return to my hometown
Daughter Tree in tow
*SNAP*

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