Despair....? Poem by Tony Esmonde

The road is long
am I getting weary?
I'll try a song
but the tune is dreary.

A dampening breeze
mutters, flutters by.
A chill to freeze
asks questions why.

I plod along,
no rhythm no rhyme.
Do I belong
then, now or in time?

Am part of this journey,
wavering, weaving on by;
like a gantry gurney
or precocious persistent butterfly.

Flitting about in wobbly flight
with random skids,
through shafts of light
till closing of lids.

Then all is quiet,
all dreadfully still,
a sky without light
a predawn chill.

Turning at a crossroads,
going round and round.
Confusion implodes
in my mind: no sound.

Standing rigid stock still,
no movement anywhere.
Waiting, waiting... till
I recover from despair.