Decay

I can now say that I am okay.
The journey of two seasons has ended today.
I’ve pined for the familiar while I fought in the fray.
I’ll reach home ‘fore the sky perpetuates the grey.

I was away for a while and I am surprised,
To see my home diminutive in size.
All the picture frames missing, leaving markings, besides,
The faucet’s leaking, the plaster’s peeling inside.

My friends have all left, my family has disappeared.
They are coming to pass, the things I have feared.
The ill-behoved fury my enemies endeared,
my enemies are no more, the fury has endured.

My aching bones attest to toil.
They tell the story of a self-inflicted foil.
I have sat, meditated, and observed a while,
the churning brine, broth, and bile.

I’m ready to pass the blame,
a little bit against everyone’s name.
Point fingers, than hurt my pride,
For the pattern chance and choice connived.

It’s dark outside, I cannot leave.
I have baggage and the looters loot the bereaved.
The night murmurs, ‘I’ll be gone’ — the constant refrain.
With the morning I’ll be gone again.