By
Elisabetta Panzica
There upon a morbid landscape
The image of a man was drawn
Like a painting yet unfinished
Incomplete in composition
Of the flesh and of the spirit
Lacking an essential element
That once held his entity together
Fate’s shadow crawled into his world
Took from him all that he ever had
Like a thief in the night
It crept into his soul
Robbed him of his treasure
His life, his only love
Wisdom’s Quest 