I saw the perceived mentors,
who I thought could reel me back to shore,
rise, in estranged fervor
and cry shamelessly on the floor.
Drifting, drifting, evermore:
my tension eased; I had no lure.
To be like those to whom I measure for,
then just like them, I must endure.
The black skies, when they reach us here,
vulnerable I will be no doubt.
My shelter is a fickle seer;
my shield an open mouth.
To those from whom I sought for solace,
Be reassured that you filled your role.
We all bear the world’s heavy burdens, laced
with our ancestors’ unpaid tolls.
When I saw the perceived mentors
collapse and vanish to eternal rest,
I decided it was time to wade back to center
and I stood to bear the test.