Leave all we have. Lose all we are. Abandon self. Escape to beyond. Flee with only who we might become.
Broken to refuge Ruined to nothing But, alive. In a kind of life. With only faint, frail, transient hope.
Left behind; agony, death, losing. We weep for the lost, Grieve what was, Dread what is Fear what still may be.
Can you hear our cry? Hear our guilt-filled relief that we, at least – still are? Still have life?