Resurrection in Tanka

After much too long,

Walking through that darkened door

Finding no sparkle

In his once so vibrant eyes

Flooded with regret and shame

~

Sitting at bedside

As he writhed in clear distress

A calming hand clasp

And an old familiar voice

Provided him an anchor

~

As the stories flow

Telling him what he once told

Fire rekindles

A spark returns to gray orbs

Picking up forgotten tales

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