panning through marshes of twisted roots,
scrounging for a handful of promised truths,
thawing wounds aching afresh,
discarded emotions gnawing into now catatonic flesh …
we walk on, ever on,
fleeing the tumult of yesterdays sorrow,
we walk on, ever on,
thirsting for a glimpse of that liberating tomorrow,
to finally rid the heaving heart of the weight of the past,
content no more with brief, tenuous ceasefires,
but hungering instead for a peace that shall last …