over there,
by the fires,
beyond reach,
others are gathered,
others are unaware
of my presence.

i sit here as tired as i could be,
as if i have endured
more than anyone could imagine,
more than anyone could suffer,
more than anyone should ever endure...

sitting here,
trying to relax,
trying to breathe,
trying to unwind,
trying to accept
all the hell within my mind,
and all the scenes i tried to put away,-

but the trying isn't enough,
and all there is for me
is exhaustion...
but no rest for the weary,
as the saying goes.

no rest for the weary.
no escape from the torment,
no safe haven from the misery,
no succor from the hurt, the pain,
e'en though it is not physical,-
still it is strong enough
to take a man down to his knees.

and, without wanting to,
but unable to fight any longer,
i find myself bending,
being driven to the ground without mercy.

searching,
eyes searching...
where is my rock to lean on?
where is the support,
the strength, the rescue...
it is not here.
it is only in fairy tales,
only in movies.

and, sadly, not in real life,
if this can be called life...
but for me,
for lack of a better word,
i will call it purgatory,
i will call it torment.

it has been my home
for decades,
but it's taken a long time
for me to realize this,
to accept it...
and now, crying,
i accept it as it is.

one day it will be better...
ashes to ashes,
dust to dust...
i only have to wait a while longer,
and it will be over,
and then it won't matter any more.

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