100 Days

A fragment of a life,

Such a short period of time,

Barely registering in my span of days,

Yet full of brilliant hope

And plunging to the abyss.

Have I ever been this high?

Could I fall lower?

They have been eventful,

Though not for me

Or in the way I would wish.

Instead I find myself powerless

In the grip of such gravity

That I cannot resist.

All else around me fades

Into empty shades of gray.

That same color has multiplied

On my head in this time.

I have felt each hour pass

And they etch my face.

Behind it all looms one figure,

That striking form which

Leaves me breathless

In both joy and grief

And unending admiration.

The hand that lifted me up,

And then silently let me go.

It’s been 100 days of you.