The Art of Struggle

How could it be that I’m so lost.
Working so hard at such great cost.

To reach a goal a point to be.
All for one day to live more free.

Now I am free but how I find,
A feeling that I left behind.

One of progress one of purpose,
One that digs beneath the surface.

One that freezes with such great fear.
Where one misstep could be severe.

Some jagged edge, some deadly rush.
Some consequential foe to crush.

Fire pumping through these veins.
Pursuits that now seem insane.

In pain and struggle I did thrive.
Those times, how I felt so alive.

Those yesterdays, they’re long gone.
And emptiness I am upon.

Without aim and without goal.
A vacancy in my soul.

A victim of my victory.
It seems so contradictory.

A twisted way I am upon.
To harmful ventures I am drawn.

A new struggle I have to find,
Before I lose this idling mind.

Something that might be worthwhile.
Something I can reconcile.

Insurmountable, with no end,
The biggest thing I can transcend.

Adventures worth taking flight
Resistance is my willing plight

But for now I sing this song.
For I know it won’t be long.

With some sadness, touch of glee.
‘Nother struggle’s finding me.