The Lingering Poem by Chris Schleier, Jr.

Though through my life success I seethe

I often wonder...

Does man inspire? Or do they breathe

of breaths asunder?

The tests of mortal fears are fierce...

Let us then be kind,

and hasten not to knife and pierce

the soft heart or mind.

For deep behind my twink'ling eye:

The dark demons sing...

A song you never hear my cry

of The Lingering...

I speak not of a course of powers

meaningless in will.

I speak in bold, of forceful powers:

Powers that can kill.

Look around at our existence.

Many feel the sting

on mind and heart, through long persistence

of The Lingering...

The agony of gloom and woe

suffered in the dark-

and trepidation's overflow

leaves a grisly mark...

So, take a great and noble caring

to entreat the mind,

taking courage, always daring

to be warm and kind.

To have compassion in the strife:

What aid that can bring-

to one of us who go through life

in The Lingering!