A Darker December

Tragic the tale, passively proclaimed
Not with words, but a wasted disdain
Destruction quite massive, this personal plague
So chronically passive it appears almost vague
Sins won't wash in a porcelain bath
Ambitions are lost down distorted paths
Forsaking tomorrow, forgetting the plight
Then sinking in sorrow, regretting the night
Escaping the clutches, yet not unscathed
Embracing reductions like commandments engraved
For self-infliction leaves lives ensnared
Shelving addiction unveils disrepair
Corroded complexion, ugly and bruised
And anorexic substance abuse
Compiling courage, contemplating surrender
To fade like a day in a darker December
Words of wisdom, offered no more
As useless as vomit on the bathroom floor
Enforced segregation sets saviors at bay
And rectification seems a razor away
A stone cold stairwell's disastrous dissension
Yet some souls fair-well after redemption
Gone in a glance, the days of denial
One more second chance, embraced by a smile
Perseverance prevails, miraculous mending
Not all tragic tales must have tragic endings

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