The earth has crumbled from beneath my feet.
I am falling free in the pitch black of night.
I search around me yet my eyes can not percieve any glimmer nor glimpse of light.
I am losing all sense of what is wrong and what is right. Have I truly been fighting the good fight?

Flailing about like a fish out of water.
Fight for the son, fight for the daughter.
I've always been a mother.
He was never a father.

Drowning in a sea of dread, hoping that I don't end up dead. Comiserating over every word that is said. Clinching fists until palms are bloody and red. watching them eat up every line they are fed.

Martyr of the masses. I will rise again as flames from the ground and burn all of your asses. Don't look so gleeful at that pile of ashes and allow yourself to be fooled into believing that it is me that you are seeing. As surely as the laughter will rise from your throat I will rise up above you leaving you bereaved and grieving.

I will not go silently into the night. I will not give up without a fight. I will not let go of what I know to be right. I have found my beacon of pure white light.