The fading breath of hope clings on the iron-hard wall of void that threatens to crumble at the slightest touch, and bury all despair, despondency, exaltation and enthusiasm in a flash of total collapse that brings down the rosy curtains of life and exposes my weary heart on the barren moor of groyesque layout.
Where is the hiding place of the guiding light. Is it now trembling in the icy cavern under blustering northern winds? Or writhing in the acrid sands sizzling in the torrid sun? Where is the oasis that doesn't turn out to be a teasing mirage, that offers in abundance luscious fruits to quench the burning thirst cutting my throat? When will the sun rise to dispel darkness like a half-lucid nightmare evaporating into the exuberance of morning light?
Trudging alone in the labyrinth of life, besieged by shadowy ghosts of intangible fears, I carry the torch-light of the belief, amid the constant surgings of overpowering doubt,that I am equal to all the obstacles life has entrenched ahead of me, with the strength that originates within, whose exertion can smash every last piece of tormenting confusion. With each step made forward, however, this belief wavers in the face of accumulating evidence to the opposite.Is now the time to call it a day and relinquish the will to hold on? There's nothing I can fall back on if I let it go, there seemed to be nothing that I will reach if I persist.
So what is the answer in between? Or does it lie else where?
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