Still upon the hill,
scrutinising the misty horizon,
the doe turned towards the stag
and gently asked
“So, where are we?”
He gazed deeply
into her bewildered eyes
and with a wry smile, replied
“We are where we are”



A strange place to be -
my dungeon of despair -
handcuffed to loss,
chained in darkness to destiny.

And for my crimes,
who have I to blame?
Nobody asked me to
place my right arm
under the guillotine.
Nobody asked me
to let the rope
slip through my grasp.

But, nothing,
no amount of experience,
no resources at my disposal
could have protected me from
this nightmarish journey
into Hades,
this pilgrimage into
into the wastelands of
a desolate infinity.

And, upon my
tempestuous trail
the odds are stacked against.
It is a disconcerting reality that
I might, in all probability, fail.

I thought I had become
impervious to pain,
that its cruel claws
could never touch me again.
How so very wrong I was.