Tuesday 11 November 2014

A LONER'S VICTORY



So much of himself
Fell off on his sprint
To where
He could be alone

He swoons with trophy
In bloody skeletal hands
Weeping, for
All that he missed
While he ran,
Frantic,
In search of
A quiet place


Saddened
by the subtle
Joy
present -
Snippet of
 victory


Dying
Under the weight
Of triumph
Over all that
Should have
Mattered

As his heart beats
A pyrrhic meter
The fog clears
And he sees…

He is victorious


But too near death
To feel its worth.