That day took place when aside all else

I found myself unable to succumb to regret.

Having embraced the Absurd yet general principle of acknowledgement that wishing things had been different made no difference.

Having sought permanence in any of innumerable conquests would have rendered a life distinct in tone,

circumstance and context compared to all the other possibilities, or any

given that Love in its nature regiments desires down strict avenues allowable for self seemingly unique,

plotting in advance like some ogre of determinism a Fate of certain death of freedom and acquiesence to certain strictures of adherence in the name of Duty vague,

cast in shade upon the sad solemn waters of obscure Solemnity and, the gray day sentiment of the funereal reality we dub the finality of Home

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