As my hand grips tightly,

Upon your own

I feel my slipping,

Become your prosperity.

However,

You do not let go.

Instead of insisting my life,

You insist my death

Not only through the prayers

You force me to recite,

But, through those cold, jaded eyes

In which

Your grotesque goliath of a mind,

Is revealed and your thoughts are withdrawn

And as I believe my everlasting misery

is seemingly over,

And I conclude my end is so near,

You sense my relief

And with such malice,

Your grip strengthens.

You do not let go.

And that is when I notice

Your malicious smirk,

In which I realize,

Letting go is not your intention.

You will allow me to dangle

Along this edge,

So, you may

Not only pride in your fortunes,

But, to snicker at mine.

We are not the same,

Surely, I knew

But, this war of life and suffering

Is something you will never see.

While you continue to indulge yourself

With materialistic matters,

You, still, do not let go.

It is your promise,

You say,

To leave me here to

Suffer, to endure, to survive.

And I will.

So, drink your champagne

My friend.

This war isn’t over.