Out of the darkness they crept, slithering across floors cold and dusty.
I am not alone.
And one by one, in numbers great and small, they took the life from me.
I was but the few.
From their deeds, that took without greed, all that I had cherished.
I feared great loss.
But up from those, who took from me, their battle they have lost.
I am but many.
And now have claimed all that I am, and all that will ne’er be taken again.
I have won . . .
The battle done . . .
My life is my own to keep.