I carry thee on my scrawny back.
Her prematurely aborted dreams,
Her skyscraping expectations,
Her heart quaking disappointments,
Her blood secreting sacrifices
Her ocean filling buckets of tears.
A decade protracted excursion up Golgotha
And we have yet to reach the crucifix.
Clawing herself into my soul and mind,
Pleading for Veronica, a mere reverberation
Bawling at my creator in retaliation.
One misstep shall eternally disintegrate me
One clash against vocation and she dies.
One seraph’s voice and organ of faith,
One purpose of my subsistence
One billion taxing strides before me lay.
Far-off the mahogany wood looms
Calling my name, bearing her face.
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