One Last Breath

His sadness played rule to his heart,
in bitterness, and blame, closing the door on the outside,
cold within, as he keeps it tightly shut, under lock and key,
beyond tears, beyond thought, he held it all deep inside.
His hatred, made him a hollow shell of what once was a man,
angrily shrugging off the touch of any kind and gentle hand.
It welled beneath his flesh,
the empty flesh of a lost soul,
unable to receive any longer love,
nor grant,
dissipated dreams of what once was held dear,
now suffocating the being of what once made him whole.
It was not his fault,
but the fault of all the rest,
his thoughts imprisoned his life,
a life now living as though already gone,
and he blames the world,
as he carries on.
The door slams, shattering windows,
as he mutters to himself, and a young boy sits upon the steps crying alone,
echoing along the glass panes, in emotional pains,
shaking up the emptiness of his saddened world he's known.
In bitter hesitation, a slight mind in contemplation,
he opens the door and feels tears falling upon his own face,
places his hand upon the young boy's shoulder, to comfort the grieving child,
and a memory chilled in cold recollection, he had tried in vain to erase.
The young boy peers up, despair within his eyes,
dashes words in upset,
outpouring cries.
The old man feels the wrath,
of such words he's used before,
and embraces the child within his heart,
the child within him, thought to be lost forevermore.
He turns to the closed windows and opens,
turns to unlock the door,
to feel a flutter of warmth surrounding him, letting his soul back inside,
and walks eagerly into the light of his being, in one last breath,
finally forgiving himself, and the world outside.