The Search Within
I reached
the uphill climb
Alone, frayed,
a fragment of myself.
The answers have
All gone
Hope has grown ill,
And questions?...yes
Rising still…
I’ve come so ill-prepared,
Skills weak,
My will chiseled thin,
My tools so blunt…
My soul…within…my soul…
I should have the answers,
My roots well planted
Now bearing fruit…
…Yet, I glance
towards the future…
unsure, scared…
my steps so tentative and shallow
can almost feel the dread.
Ahead…
I scurry on despite
Myself.
Searching still the hollow hall
For guiding light,
Glimmer of hope…
Just…anything…anything at all…
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.