Today I bled and no one saw
A forest full of trees and I’m the only one that fell.
Dawn came and the day prevailed, and after a while, it retired, shouldering the burden of moonrise and twilight, yet I was still but a figure lying in the dust. Exposed and bare to the tellurian ballet.
I became a home to parasites. Organisms grew proud inside of me, bestirred on top of me, and under me, but I was unable to stand tall as I once was.
My sentience was still intact. And my days were slow and empty; I became a ghost of change. My life wasn’t over, yet I was forced to suffer it. Not for me, but for the hangers-on. They strived but for me. My purpose was for them. I wished I could change it, but I was unable.
I became complacent, willing to accept the sycophant function I had affected, and my soul took roots in my new role. Although it was only a semblance of what I once was, my being was once again towering over the things that crawled along the ground beside me. I was lifted up