The Tenth Plague

when I cut the cord the first rush of anxiety cut through me in return, other roads and possibilities slowly beating to a stop, crumbling to sand in shaking hands I was bowed before the finality of the obligation, with no take-backs, no regrets, refusing to run out into the sea and being drowned regardless I hold back the tide of fear with faith and deep breaths we have a precious burden not to be lifted, for she will have so much work to do