To those who have suffered,
To those who have felt sorrow.
To those who have cried.

When one’s heart is a ragged bloody mess, lying on a death smelt floor. The dawn is a grey wet cloth that soils your sallow, toxic face.

To the humiliated
To the bruised
To the scorned

You have tasted love and spat it back in an act of derangement? You have opportunity offered to you and shy away in an act of contrition?

Could you have done better?
Could it have been any worse?

To those who tried to run,
To those who tried to hide,
To those forced to return.

Out?
In?

When you know it is wrong,
When you know there is more.

To those who felt the blight and sting of cycles past. To those who shake away the fetters and trappings of the ignorant and the lesser blessed spreading their wings in glorious fortitude.

To those who lost and to those who won.

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