Gallows

This chain of days is frightening sometimes, how it bends backward and turns inward and straightens out just enough for me to catch sight of the whole spectrum lined up, end to end. I see how it was. I see how it will be. For all the hoping, enduring, and striving, it is but the same death march across the same desert. It is the same wind that obscures the trail in the sand.
And how shall I respond to this repressed revelation? How shall I reconcile my being with the nature of my being?
I am condemned by self-knowledge, and I step up to the gallows with alternating fits of laughter, and then tears.