My old life doesn’t recognize me it knows of me no more.
I’ve tread water for years in the center of the river ‘tween Stix’s narrow shores.
Between the shore of the old life & the shores along the new.
I’ve been stuck in decision in the middle waters…such a black shade of blue.
My hesitance traversing along to the banks of my new life; across from where I was just alive…
I can’t take anything or anyone but those who understand a life dying, while, only the self survives.
Try as I may to let go & swim naked with naught but character, soul & skin.
Th Stix’s water’s thick as quicksand & I’m at risk of drowning if I don’t just fucking swim.
Hades has been patient with me while I learn to embrace the new life awaiting me…
See, He has no claim on me for the world of my life only died but the soul is still ‘en vie’.
Yet, He notes my weighty grief for what is dead & gone-& if I drown, I’ll be claimed gladly.
So, I must decide while my head’s above “water” & I’ve established, just barely, I live.
Now, I must paddle to shore, clothe my skin in its sand & see what a “New Life” can give.
I’ve got my character, skin, my soul & good friends; if “New Life” can just lend me a voice.
If happiness is earned & what I’ve to say is truly heard, I can deal with my mortal choice.
I can choose to move on from a dead world…
As long as I find my voice & as long as my voice will be heard.