What else can I do but stay alive?
As a vagrant I wander the wastes
Unhealing wounds upon my scarred heart
A victim bearing the brands as trophies
These are the years of transformation
Of savage decisions and necessary cruelty
Running out of a habit of danger
Crushing beauty as if to feel beautiful

I wish I had not rejected the few who cared
I miss them now like an echo of gratitude
How I wept as those sparks were extinguished
Still I dream of their faces through the dust

Night upon night, afraid to share my pain
Ashamed to even ask, learning to be helpless
Moonlight is harsh and full of memories
Still the scream remains inside

I am the pallid light of pressure without grace
Blank with despair, heated and weary
I am a pale beast tamed by a lam
Mouth stretched like the stupid yawn of chattel

Treating myself as fragile, shattered by the wind
A crawling, cringing, daunted coward
Degraded by inveterate fear and retrograde guilt
And the sudden tragic end

I am a blasted husk in this scorched landscape
None remain to cry for the dead, no hope for what I once was
I am this fallen earth of utter loss and barren spirit
Dark emotions beneath an arch of hatred

Still I feel rhythms in the empty streets
As vultures circle in missing man formation
Searching this planet for the secret trove
Eager to hear the voices of the ones I loved

Harshness, desolation, coldness, survival
Stalked by disease, hunger and scarcity
The stubborn reek of leprous stink
What remains does not live

Likely, I will not see tomorrow
Yet worrying about the future is another way to change it
Tenacious, determined, and adapting
As character is chiseled between extremes
Every child is the only child
A universe of individuals - each alone
A warrior without weapons is a warrior still
Shifting, growing, improvising destiny