memory in the blood

here i sit – slowly turning
the glass within my hand
i await the blinding morning
drink the last, to waiting’s end

laid back in my cushioned chair
the gray dawn is before my eyes
to the horizon far, i stare
to see the break of the sun’s rays

solemn gust over the terrace
picks up and becomes an ill wind
the clouds circle into a grimace
the sun drives the air in front of it

in a motion, i arise
to greet my so unwelcome guest
seeking to finish my demise
already no heart beating in my chest

he comes for what is left of me
but if i have to go entirely
i burn what’s left of me to take
dark embers scorch all in their wake

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