by Anna Phillips
The specter calls me, yet instinct forces me forward.
Each step an agony,
The futility of my task does not sway me.
Respite could be found, but thinly-veiled hostility seeps from those more alert. Fate is prolonged to prevent needless suffering.
It comes for us all, a shadow in the wake of each individual’s path.
My ancient friend creeps closer.
I am set apart- chosen.
The burden of existence weighs me down
Heavy lidded, talons curled
The thick haze is a weighted embrace.
Nature as cruelty; peace in finality
The laws don’t change when you can’t keep pace. Not for the one or the many.
Cannibalized by my brethren.
Deplumed as a consequence of my fragility.
My rest is release as burdens are broken at last.
Anna Phillips is an Ozarks-Based Writer and Horror Marketer with a passion for native ecology and permaculture. She spends her days surrounded by little feet and talons alike.