Grief and illness have
kept the pen from
my hand.
Overtaken by life's grip
hanging onto distant dreams
to come.
Pulling close the darkness
like soft warm blankets
holding me.
Taking my self awareness
to another dark room
hidden away.
Searching for soft breeze
of air against skin
awakening me.
With unsteady legs shaking
I walk into sunshine
blinding me.
Knowing here is life
leaving death far behind
I limp,
to begin
again.

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