There, far across, I see
a beacon, burning bright.
Tired, my legs could carry me
no more. Crawling, my knees
are now bruised; gritty,
these rocks tell me a tale
of angry vengeance.
I’m a wanderer in this land
yet, victimized, and I know not
why. It has been a while
I’ve lost my way, drifting away
from you. It no longer gnaws,
a maggot nibbling at raw wounds-
No. It doesn’t hurt that bad.
It is now, as night sets in
once again, and the darkness cloaks
my pain, that I see that light.
Across the horizon, a lantern
burns; and I dream of a stranger
Waiting, hoping, to find me
And own me, even if for a night.
I lose the stranger’s lantern
each morn, and I weep, inconsolably.
I crawl and creep through the day,
stones in the road urging me on.
Trance, the night plays its tune
And I stare, longingly, yearning to be
a midnight whore. Your’s.
That much, at least.
