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Home » Poetry » Issue 4 » Remains


You are left with this gift,
which should flow into rivers wide and far,
moving to the core of being.
what a wonderful gift,
that the memory of knowing life is,
that the memories of love
and being held are.
these are the remains,
the relics of a chance well taken
this is what is left behind in this wretchedness.
but what a wonderful gift,
to be the one to still live this life,
the one left behind to march forward,
the one with another chance
to draw the bow, to face darkness in the eye and release the arrow of light.

to wake and shoot.
                to breathe and shoot.
to walk and shoot.
                to will and shoot.
to take as many shots as possible to conquer darkness and all its weight.
I know you said it felt like hell,
that everything had been snatched away.
true, the struggle still hovers around
but learn this too, you are what remains.
hell is rejecting yourself and your power.
what remains should live,
you are alive,
all you have to do is try and learn,
that the light too, is in you.

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