The Dawn Treader

To what are we bequeathed?
This sun
This moon
The dawn treads
Indeed toward us
And this fragile grasp
Bends to hold

The force of my ability
To hold fast
And maintain
Iron clenched fist
For that base thing
Upon which all wars are birthed

And I know not
How to reconcile
These warring factions within me
To let go
To hold tight
To bear out the brutality
Of my insurmountable disappointment

To whom have I been betrothed?
But a series of names
A series of faces half forgotten
Who know me not anymore
And who care not to know

But the movie reel plays on
Those grainy images
Eternal moments
Of joy and loss
From my various past lives
Haunt and torment me

What wretched life
Has been bequeathed to me?
But this sun
And this moon?
As the clocks tick
And the dawn treads
Toward a day
I wish to hide from