Perhaps, it's only me.
Or perhaps, I just couldn't do it.
Can't or won't?
Then intention, the desire, the will, does exist.
Yet I do not know how. Even if I do, will I?
My conscience is delaying it, acknowledging its barren existence.
That it's gone.
Never to come back. Nor return.
Yet, I am still holding on to it. Perhaps, a little too tight.
Can I blame myself to grasp so hard?
For there is not much left to hold?
Though there wasn't many to begin with.
And I fear it will all be gone.
For some already did.