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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #2316221
The tiredness of the mind, a feeling of nothingness but a hope that lingers.
My mind, a cluttered attic
Filled with pervasive thoughts,
Are now like dusty sheaves.
Each one a burden, carried
On my weary burdened sleeves.

My spirit, once an enormous fire,
Roaming far and wide.
Now flickers and grows dim.
The remains of my aspirations battle,
‘gainst the burden of woe.

My body, once a temple,
Encumbering an agile soul.
Groans with every passing day.
A heavy weight of exhaustion,
That chases sleep away.

Yet amidst the toil,
Is an undying will,
A flicker that can’t be quenched.
A yearning for achievement,
Though the route seems contradictory.

Like a ship in a ravaging storm,
Thrown to-and-fro by the waves.
An inner storm I battle,
A courage that still craves
A harbour where dreams may berth.

A moment I require,
To grant myself respite,
To unwind and soothe my troubled mind.
And mend a frayed connection.

Like a wilting garden,
The sun and rain, I need
To bloom anew,
And rise, refreshed.

For in this gentle healing,
A wellspring shall I find.
To fan the flames within,
And set ablaze hope and strength.

Although the road is weary,
And burdens remain,
With resilience I’ll face them,
And rise above the strain into glory.
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