Death....

The fragility of
self image.
Caught in a downward
spiral.
Never completely destroyed,
but left to
tumble.
Awkward and
out of place.
Begging for salvation.

Animalistic,

alien even...

grotesque.

Finally oblivious and therefore somewhat satisfied
with this devolved state
reached from the fall.

From this mindless state of contentment
with the present condition

redemption is
found.

Call it surrender becoming stability.
Recreation of the ego.
Mutating into something familiar.

Death.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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