Struggling

Blight of spirit seems
to grip
all of those around us
each and every
moment of existance
to make the future hard enough
for dreams to break
shattering against
the wreckage plans
of such as we.

Each instant climbed beyond
despairing flood
of failure
serves to only plunge us
ever deeper
back into the sweating dark
of hopelessness
and fear,
tangled in the mangled limbs
of misery and want.

Every moment struggled out
from under widening
frustration
makes the plummet back into
the usual state of
apathetic
surrendering acceptance
harder every second.

And yet each painful instant
I step back,
every footstep's aching stumble
finds me safe,
caught within your arms
once more,
and I stand up
unafraid
and filled with you,
proud
to try again.