December 26th

Day after Christmas,

A day that should be happy for most people,

A day closer to the close of another year,

A day of contemplation, work, and more contemplation,

A day of some discontent and apathy and yearning for bygone Christmases of yore.

A day of wanting adventure and Exodus of isolation,

A feeling and a need not unfamiliar who refuse to leave,

And of wonderings of life’s punishments.

Isolation isn’t a gift,

All you need are pockets of silence for in Chaos there is life and

in isolation stagnation.

In the lives of your fathers are stories lost to time unrecoverable and in

stillness there is death unpreserved.

The worthy of death are only those who were brave enough to have lived.

December 26th,

Day after Christmas,

No snow, no letters in the mail, only hunger for what is out there.