My own worst enemy

Who is it whom holds me back,
What mythical beast lurking in wardrobes and darkened corners, Dragging at my wavering soul,
Inhaling in wispy gasps my life-force as I exhale,
The nemesis I must fight throughout the days,
And longer nights,
But in my reflection it is just me,
No third parties to blame,
As once more the struggle against myself goes on,
With no will to carry this burden of life,
On shoulders to narrow to bear its weight,
to bury me beneath once more,
My arch rival of myself shows what I could have been, If courage had been firmer,
And iron of will stronger,
To undo these sins I perpetrated upon myself,
To bleach my soul,
Removing the tarnishing brought on by my own survival, And re-boot this overloaded mind,
Reset to factory settings,
And full of wonder,
Virginal of breath once more,
The horrors of this world unknown to me,
If for only but one moment longer,
As these dulling eyes of grey to focus once more,
Is it not my resentment of this world,
Or the worlds of me,
As I stride against the tide,
My soul no longer for sale,
Purchased long ago,
And owned,
Papers signed and ownership exchanged,
Leaving me stroll through bleak and colourless landscapes, In ever decreasing circles,
In search of humanity’s human side,
Where life happens beyond ones own universe,
On my own fools errand I continue,
Until I breath life’s last gasp, And my fruitless journey is done.

Mixed wood bowl, built around an African Blackwood stump. More on Bespoke Woods Facebook page

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