It is an acceptance
that must be endured.
Forget that there is such a thing,
move on and never remember,
although it may lay dormant within
chained to its wall of obscurity,
unleashed when darkness descends.
True escape shall never be known,
for this is an ache of old,
a pure despair that shall never be rescued.
It will weigh heavy on this heart
buoyed up only by a strength of will.
There will not arrive a moment’s rest
for the exhaustion of the lonely.
© Johanna Fugitt 2017