The mother of Rudy

Not like Atlas, no.
Others still need protecting from the anguish.
Conditioning eases the encumbrance but the weight is always there.
A dumping ground that receives all baggage but relinquishes none.
The weight of it preventing sunflowers but also squelching weeping willows.
Fertilizing the one and preventing the spread of itself.
And yet my savior from myself is out there.
The one that will save me from the field I have made home.
So that I may know that those I have fought to protect are safe.
Even if they never know what was kept at bay.
To collapse from relief into the arms of that savior is all I ask.