Crystal Clear

Your question seemed simple
'Will you take me home?' asked
Of us all as we stood round
Your bed, mute in reply.
Realization dawned
Slowly as anger burned
Beneath your pallid skin
Such sad futility
Faced with that enemy.
Then you took your necklace
Tugged it furiously
Over your painfilled head
'It doesn't work!' crystals
Glinted like unshed tears
As this talisman lay
On the sheet, 'What's the point?'
Christina Rossetti
Was right. It is uphill
All the way - dear friend
Yes, to the very end.