Moment by moment, the time creeps along.
There never used to seem to be enough.
Here, within this modern day and age
where bioethicists become enraged
as they gauge my many ways of use gone by.
Not seeing much of worth in all the work
put in the past of passing days that always seemed berserk.
They think of me as useless now.
Unproductively engaged in feeling pain.
As they take those other parts of me away
Left more and more alone, I seem to even lose my name.
The one I worked so hard to earn
through years that in the backwash burn
to ashes now before my time is done.
I faced the many losses of my past.
Mostly wishing not that this would be my last.
But they keep coming at me as if some great mind
had planned this great and growing pain of mine.
Enlarging every nuance of a life of love gone bad.
Evil wins the wars as all the misery goes mad.
Sometimes it feels as if somehow, I've lived this all before.
The gain and loss bound in the loins of lore.
As moment by moment, this time creeps along.
Murdering the harmony of loving we once found.
No rest provided for our weary souls.
The sparkle gone from what we once found whole.
Perhaps the start of every ill is found in the invisible
but potent loss of love within our hearts...

? Michaelette ?