Among the Lost

Inside the crumbling factories
We sometimes call ourselves,
We stumble over decades
Of decay

And how we mean to extricate,
But he or she who delves
May see the light, but still not
Find the way

And Lord, I have been lost,
And I have seen the lost lose everything,
And join the greater stillness
Far too soon

But silence has its reasons
That the grieving understand,
And though we be not here,
There’s none

Immune

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure. View all posts by Beleaguered Servant