You travel through fire
and stumble through snow
on burning life-pyres
in trenches below.
Set upon
by hurt and sorrow
you shoulder on
burnt and hollow.
Your heart is a burden
so dry, cracked, and heavy
too often ripped open
and squeezed until empty.
Your mind is a leech
so sly, black, and empty
too often off its leash
to allow you to think.
Wounded, still limping
bloodied and bruised
you will not give in
you won’t be consumed.
For trench's end
and pyre’s ashes
you will not bend
nor bat your eyelashes.
The earth will rise
the rain will soon start
to silence your mind
and fill up your heart.
For what you endure
is worth every rend
the end is sure:
carry on, Pale Friend.
I think this one is pretty straightforward (for once I might not have to write an essay explaining my poem), but I'll say a few things on it just in case it's not as clear as I think.
Life is tough, that's a fact. And sometimes it feels like, after being repeatedly beaten down, we're destined to limp along forever. I believe there is some truth in that belief; while on earth, we'll never truly be rid of the things that haunt us. But, thankfully, life on earth is not forever. From an atheistic perspective this would be incredibly depressing, but from a Christian perspective, there is hope and even joy in the fact that we are going to die someday. There is life after death, life without this world's pains, and that is what we should be enduring for.
So, if life sucker-punches you or you get wrapped up in yourself, take a breath and remember that this is not forever. Endure for the forever that awaits.
On a side note, this poem isn't meant to idolize death, or set it up as a way to escape our problems (I've been down that road, and I can say that it isn't worth even contemplating). Enduring is resisting the temptation to make those and other choices that will not take us from the trench our "Pale Friend" is walking through.
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