I mourn
The loss of countless
words
That once breathed free
Within me
Some to blessed sleep
Some to broken strands
On neural pathways
Of memory
Yet more I lost
To the unruly chaos
That is often named
As life
They struggled
To escape anonymity
Martyrs
Of a futile strife
It’s true
That I caught thousands
In ink
Yet millions more did
fall
Into the caverns of
living
Unsung,
Never to be captured
In my scrawl
MS
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