She always said to me
"loss is the great lesson."
I never believed her,
not until the day
I lost her soul
and she lost her way.
The wolves anchored
their tainted claws
and devoured her.
And then I understood
her words.
They echoed in my head:
"loss is the great lesson,
loss is the great lesson."
Then what is life?
I pondered this,
as I stood alone.
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"Write with our backs to the wind and our faces to the hard, bleaching sun."