The Witherman

Posted: July 6, 2017 in Dark Poetry

The Witherman

The Witherman shelters in the dark
Retreating to a damp, cold corner on the left

Solace but a distant memory
His heart and soul picked at by ravenous crows
Leaving little but scared and torn remains

Feeling beyond salvation
So much given of himself, for so long
Seldom worth the resulting sorrow and pain
but still he gives unconditionally

He loves completely
Regardless of the careless hurt and anger thrown his way
He asks for so little but seldom receives so much as a kind word
Sacrifices it all,
Himself
A being of eternal last priority

The Witherman cowers waiting for the next assault
The hammer blow to break him one last time
Still he knows he will endure
A sentence to face with little hope of reward
But still he loves unconditionally

The belief in the dream unwavered
It will be worth it
And if not…
He will perish knowing he did all he could
He can never walk away nor give up
A lost cause to anything other than a happy ending.

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