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I live.
Yet I am not alive.
I exist amidst crushing waves of darkness,
Doused in frigid crests of paralyzing doom.
Hope has failed.
And in its absence joy and contentment have withered
Leaving sorrow, anguish and despair my masters,
Masters themselves enthralled by undeniable fear.
The veneer of reality has fallen away,
Revealing all that the world is and is not,
Its variance from hell no longer clear.
A pointless desolate eternity spreads before me
Like a vast ocean.
And I, bereft of a compass, remain transfixed, unable to move,
An infinite number of wrong directions obscuring the one true path.
Oh for the skills of Odysseus to secure my freedom
And successfully lead me through troubled waters, past fantastic challenges.
A champion, a companion, a savior to raise me into the light
And breath life into this unliving shell.
For hope has failed.
And I thrice descend under waves of darkness,
Drowned eternally by the hands of my masters.
Yet I am not dead.
I live.


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(A)live, by Paul Cales, © March 2000