The Final Objection

Whispers in the shadows

Calling for me

Begging me to come join them

To help  them be free


It is my choice

I can choose to run and hide

Or simply walk over

To the black void open wide


The chill creeps to my skin

I don’t shiver – no fear

Slow resonant drum beating

I am not alone here


I could be among friends

Or so they profess

Less painful to give in

No need to confess


No sins that are scripted

I could choose to commit

To that final objection

To life’s pain – Come, it


Says to me, the multitude within the shades

Don’t fight it, we’re waiting

For me, their Queen of Spades

The Queen of Blood Diamonds


Glistening sickly in glaring light

Brittle and broken is my armour

Lost all strength to fight

I won’t need to any longer – so one of them swears


They murmur in the dark

Unprecedented at ease

With my wound’s searing mark

Rooted deep within my chest


The bane of my existence

My bête noir

Paralysing persistence

The unscripted aide-mémoire


Water stains bruise down

The paper of flowers

Swallows the colours

Diminishing powers


So, I choose to wander

Over slick cobble stones

Towards the darkness

To join their lovely bones.

4 thoughts on “The Final Objection

  1. Depression is such a sinister shadow. Congratulations Linda Catherine this would have been difficult to write and even more so to immerse yourself in its thinking. Many good people have wandered toward the darkness and this is homage to them.B

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