The battle.
Once again the dark’s crept in,
to start a fight I barely win.
Ambushed by this callous foe,
that holds on tight and won’t let go.
Why does this lurk inside of me?
With no design to set me free.
Pressing me to cross the line.
Is that my only anodyne?
Rhyme or reason plays no part,
to why my mind is torn apart.
Nor why I feel more grief than joy.
A victim of some heinous ploy.
I’m bound to let it run its course,
to cut me down without remorse.
To make me feel a lessor me.
To rip away my dignity.
I will not let it take my soul,
nor keep me locked inside this hole;
where pain and hurt and sadness lay,
where hopes and dreams are wrenched away.
And I will not give up the fight,
despite the plague of sleepless nights.
Despite the days I cannot bear,
I’ll break the chains of my despair.
For though this darkness pulls me in,
I cannot - will not - let it win.
So I will battle for the light,
and hope to god, I end this plight.
P. A. Davies 2022
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