The seven stages in five

Intermittent sound.

I feel the coldness of the sunlight.

Movements draw attention.

One in front of the other.

I gather momentum wrecklessly.

The system asks so much.

She is my hope.

I find joy in laughter.

Broken I mourn times takings.

Golden years bring no peace.

I search rubble for treasure.

Yet I ready my bed.

It's cold again.

Memories resigned as stolen.

I'm afraid of what's next.