To Struggle On Poem by C.A. Morrow

There is a lonely place towards the bray of the hill
Where the wind whispers silently and time stalls
A pause ensues to recheck the lost soul's will
The marathon runner calls it 'hitting life's walls'

The mind turns back down to survey covered ground
But the distance covered is now a delusional mirage
As memories echo a violent sound
And fear the past's ghosts; a constant barrage

So you stand and turn a reticent, cautious, and weary head
It's so much further to struggle back; then to soldier on
For what lies beyond stirs from the bowels an aged dread
The pulse of the future is what the gambler has drawn

Life does not offer the choice of the spurned gift returned
What old milestones are passed, are so very long gone
Only with jaded memory does our youthful hopes burn
As uncertain futures continue to unfurl
yet another dawn