The Unasked Breath - Forty Lines

Harben wanted a family - Fate had other plans

The Unasked Breath

Harben, a shiver on the world begun,
A whisper stolen, long before the sun.
His frame, a gaunt testament to blight,
Emaciated, shadowed, drained of light.

No note, no whisper, just empty air,
Leaving him orphaned to the streets' cold stare.
The concrete jungle clawed with tooth and nail,
A constant battle meant he would fail.

He learned the hunger, sharp and gnawing deep,
The vigilant fear that stalked him in his sleep.
The subway's belly, grimy, vast, and low,
A transient haven from the frost and snow.

He'd lingered late, a foolish, tired plight,
And found the shadowy world seething, packed and tight.
He walked through the city's labyrinthine spine,
A shivering whisper, seeking a sign.

A church, unnoticed in his hurried stride,
A silent sentinel, where shadows hide.
Its heavy door, unlatched, an open plea,
He pushed it softly, cautiously,

To see if respite waited, beyond fear and doubt,
A fragile haven shut the harsh world out.
He stepped inside, a gasp escaped his chest,
The sudden warmth, a blessing, deeply blest.

He chose the first pew, closest to the door,
A primal instinct, rooted in the core.
No prayers he knew, no childhood hymns could rise,
His mother's world was devoid of sacred ties.

Its shadow, breaking the fragile peace,
Yet, here, for now, his weary soul has found ease.
His heavy eyelids drooped, a weary sigh,
The fight against the dark began to die.

"What's just a little nap?" his tired mind thought,
A peaceful truce so desperately sought.
A phantom comfort, brushing through his hair,
A softness felt, a presence hovering there.

Then silence deepened, vast, pure, and deep,
Harben, at last, truly fell asleep.
His suffering ended in that sacred place,
A final peace, upon his sallow face.


Line Count: Forty