Where did you go?

I am a walking carcass hoping for a wind strong enough to carry me away, a rain harsh enough to dissolve me into a lump of soil. If I could erase all these memories and go back to the days before I met you, I would. But how sad that I roll in torture during the night and burn during the day. Tell me, old friend, you who made me feel special and important, where did the wind take you? Should I cry for time that conspired against us or should I let you shoulder the burden? I have been reduced into a mess of tears and regret. I have lost my trust and my confidence, come to me, you who gave me strength and take me with you. Tell me I was dreaming and tuck me back to sleep. Smother me with the pillow so I will not wake from this, for what is life, when she that I adored and loved in equal measure walked out on me? Look at me now as I wade knee deep in mud and slime, look at me as I stretch my hands to take you back but oh how far away you are. Come messiah, before I fade into darkness. Time is running out, and my patience is waning. I cannot hold on much longer. My hope is in tatters and my faith from a river to a mere trickle. I am letting go, I think I should let go, for I can’t keep holding on waiting for the impossible to happen. How can I pray for a miracle when I don’t believe in it anymore? Isn’t it a false hope to pray that the sun comes out immediately after a big storm? I would fight the world for you, but how can I when my arms are weak? How can I when my legs are immobile and my knees paralyzed? If maybe I could move I would run to you and hold on without letting go. If my throat was not that parched I would shout and call out to you. But you, my dear left with my life and my love. But dear friend tell me, wouldn’t you have waited till it was day then walk away? How shall I fight these nightmares swarming my bed? Who shall hold my hand as I negotiate the dark corners of bitter memories? Tell me, friend, where will I rest my head when it feels too heavy? Run though if you must. Maybe I will pick myself someday. Maybe I will walk and meet you along the road, way ahead. Maybe it was all for good, that I should write my own story and run my own race. Maybe it was a plan, or maybe it was never true. Forget me, wherever you are, and I shall remember myself as the keeper who had and lost, a believer who was dragged back to sin when salvation did not give him life.