He forged a life, made of promises unkept
Each time, the mortal’s chain grew stronger
Unaware, in his future, he would be inept
As every day, the silver links, grew longer

Passing the time, he sought out his own
Thought they’d understand him the best
Not one would listen, his voice, a drone
They’d all come to despise and detest

Sinking away, to his cold, lonely house
Even the fire could not warm him tonight
He knew it didn’t matter, were he to grouse
He had saddled himself, with this plight

Soon he was called to the afterlife, where
He was fitted, with his now complete chain
Each link, a reminder of how he didn’t care
Every movement, of the weight, was his pain

March Writing Prompts – The last link – Day 2/31

©2019 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
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