The taste of defeat……it was all in vain; always.
He felt the first tear drop escape,
for so long he had fought back against the pain.
Its salty taste stinging on lips and tongue, the taste of defeat, it was all in vain.
The old woman’s lifeless body could not be real, he begged, it could not be the end.
God would never have allowed it all to happen, only to come to this,
a hope only He could send.
He saw her face and his tears now flowed freely,
her eyes dried out but remnants of their beauty remained.
A reminder of all that was delicate and pure,
to the harsh reality of the world she could not endure.
He approached and sobbed uncontrollably as he intertwined his fingers with her cool hand.
Long gone was her pulse as he reached for his knife.
Burying his head in her silent chest, the blade crept inwardly on…
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