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The Shroud
I look through painted glass.
Covered in my doubt.
Shrouded by my past.
I try to move forward.
I take ten steps back
My mind in peril.
My mind under attack.
sitting there helpless
Gasping for air
Choked by the sorrow.
Looking for someone who cares.
The helping hands fade.
Leaving me again in darkness.
Pain being the cascade.
Should I give up?
Or keep on going?
To wait on that someone
Or just venture into the unknown?