Lifes' Last Good Nerve

Raw as winters' northeasterly winds
Blowing across my naked skin, searing
I feel as though life is stepping on my last good nerve,
I cannot hold on much longer.

How do I hold on any longer?
When all I know to do is let go,
Only to fall again into the abyss.

Hammer in my hand, turned on myself again,
Fear drives the blows, hard,
Crushing my spirit with each pummel
Spiritual warfare at its best,

All I know is how to give in,
To hurt some more,
To cry

Unfounded fear without boundaries, no rules,
Only vague discernment of a ghost
Reality for me is a feeling of being trapped
My shortcomings real or imagined


From whence does the power come?
To change my precepts
To silence this awful clatter.

Within me lies the answer
This power greater than myself
That I rarely acknowledge
Why must I struggle so?


Has it come to this again?
To humble myself,
To ask that this Power to intervene again?


Crawling back under the rock is not an answer,
Only a tactic that delays the inevitable
Relief is only a petition away
Healing awaits my request


Where does the answer lie?
How does the hurt and bleeding stop?
Not by my hand or strength


The vexation that I endure needlessly
Although hurting, is familiar,
Strangely comfortable
Perhaps it is because it is all I have ever known


This summit is surmountable
If only I have the strength
To endure one more step, one more day

The strength lies with in
All I have to is ask
Humbled by it all
It is all that I can do