There is

An annonymous pain

That one you feel

When a part of you dies

Greater than the pain;

When you are the one

To inflict

The final

Merciful

Stroke.

There are times

The sword must be risen

We know it

Don’t want it

But it has to be done.

That one dead limb

Must be eliminated

The fight

Is for survival

Of the best in you

Of the light

Hidden in the dark.

We face the choice

Of letting go

Cutting loose

Until there’s

Nothing left

But who you were in the beginning

.

.

.

Do you remember who you were in the beginning?

Do you remember

Who you were

Before the pain?

Do you remember what caused the pain?