I see it all
so clearly
the past
the future
the present
I see the blood and sweat
the pain and agony
the tortured betrayal
I've survived,
prevailed
through days of torment
and nights of angst
but for what?
what does it amount to?
it amounts to an old man
dying alone
counting the bumps in the ceiling
as death slowly enters
no faces of those I've loved
no one to hold my hand
and say it'll be alright
nothing to comfort me
in my silent solitude
nothing is left
but an empty shell
to be burried like the others
that and a trail of tears
spanning decades
flowing into a waterfall
at my feet
it'd be beautiful
if it wasn't so sad
but it's all that remain
of the struggle I won
only to lose in the end
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