Like a Colossus it stood,
Amorphous of shape,
A phantom, shadowy but real,
Of that frequent ache,
Nay, more than ache,
Deeper.

Terrifying at first,
Numbing with ease,
Surprise, but not of joy,
Chilling, dulling,
The senses dim.

Pain,
Physically brought to bear,
Mentally,
Bereft of steel, but only if,
Unbearable, torture.

Time blurs,
A gray haze,
It passes, as clouds do,
Bringing Storms,
Yet boasting the Sun.

The light in the mind,
Is that of body, of soul eterne,
Looking forward,
Piercing the darkness,
She who collects mortality awaits.

In vain,
She looks to thee,
By her side,
Yet so distant and cheerful.
Looming larger by far,
Hope.

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