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Musings

The Price by jan-u-wine

The door.....
I lay my hand upon
its sweet, familiar
roundness
As it closes
behind them:
My friends,
going off
To doors
and homes
of their own.

The fire
burns upon the hearth
as it did that day
not so long ago...

I stare at my feet,
bare on the dust-laden
floor....
just there...
just....

there

IT
lay.

Now,
it is gone
and no one
knows
my loss.

In shame,
I cannot raise my head,
cannot take my hand
from the door.

It
IS gone...
yet,
here with me still:
Stealing my joy,
stopping my breath
with terrible desire.

Tears are dripping
on the beloved floor,
which is no longer mine,
and the door
only serves to sunder
the darkness without
from the deeper one within.

Out there,
beneath wandering stars,
shall I ever be
this Quest
never over,
my lost home:
evil's fee.