Renegade - Poem by Sara Stowell
Divided is the renegade,
As the shroud of twilight descends.
Despair has breeched his barricade,
For this is where his journey ends.
There is no one to call him home,
And no savior to defend him.
Far from grace did this rebel roam,
For such foolishness offends him.
He never prayed to keep,
The product of man’s delusion.
A soul that lived beyond the sleep,
Was a fanciful illusion.
Yet here he stood beside the bed,
Where his body lay defeated.
He hears a voice pronounce him dead,
His odyssey is completed.
But slumber did not close his eyes,
He’s overcome with confusion.
Beyond the veil of his demise,
He sees more than an illusion.
He, fearfully, attempts to flee,
From the punishment that awaits.
Like those who thought they’d cease to be,
He rushes on to meet his fate.
To a place where one is absent,
Somewhere far beyond creation.
Where he wrestles with the torment,
Of his personal damnation.
Alone he greets eternity,
Into the emptiness he fades,
Where he will share the destiny
Of all his fellow renegades.
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