Backsliding

We all have dreams and thoughts and prayers

As we approach the daily game,

Imposed on us by self alone

No, not the work of others here, who we can blame.

 

But is it true that I can set the very nature of my day

Exacting every ounce of blood, to push myself  beyond myself, and all for me?

But surely others set the pace, impose the rules?

 

But what of mood and hope and fears, and happiness (that fleeting trick)

Are these mine too to orchestrate?

 

Let me grasp the truth again – you say that faith is all we need, and everything I ever need I have to use?

 

Away with you, and take the trick – I never saw the point of it

Leave me to wrestle with my past, trusting my fear to hold me back

Lest I should fall.

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