We grieved,
each in our own way.
I, refusing to indulge
sins of the past
weary from roads
to oblivion’s gate,
seeking solitude alone.
You, the company of the crowd
and the infectious allure
of sweet poison.
The frenzy of abandon,
the potential,
of long nights.
Like a prophet chained
I could see your path,
as if you had followed
the very footsteps I had
travelled, not so long ago.
Yet I was powerless to stop it.
I could not be a guide
for a journey within.
So all I could do
was lament the truth
that the hardest lessons
must be learned,
alone.