By choice

depressing landscape of mist and fog

It may have been just
that her balance gave way,
that dew damp grass
was the the culprit that day.

It might have been planned,
or purely by chance,
that no one would catch
her last backward glance

We may never know why
her life ended that way,
if her sight was obscured,
or her thoughts led astray

Not a word for her friends,
she left barely a trace,
at the end of her journey,
when she fell from grace.

She may never have known
the path she was on.
Life obscured her vision.
We blinked. She was gone.

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