in the end, what am i?
ashes of thought
a memory of pain
and for what?
all rivers flow to one end
and by the gods graces do i flow gently
but it was not always so
i remember smokey rooms and fear
i remember pain so great
an angel thought to stand by me
now?
now i live in a heaven of sorts,
everything i asked for is mine
but i never asked for a sound mind
a mind free from unreasonable fear
i never asked to be able to keep all my body parts
was that the cost?
sanity and my thyroid?
such an odd payment, if you ask me.
