I remember that I used to try. Used to care
about damn goals and getting there,
used to struggle, fight, and battle,
risk it all, thinking that will
justify the air I breathe, steam released,
if dreams achieved
could cradle embers, blow them hot
fan them high and burn the lot
of doubts that mouldered way down deep
where it stinks and dark flows seep
through every crack in confidence
every pause and hesitance.
Then I stopped, I dropped. I rolled
away those goals, those dreams were sold.
I kicked them, bashed them, drowned them good,
pretended it was perfect where I stood.
Let the ember shrink down low
Let my passion die of cold.
But while I turned and walked away
you crept in quietly, and finally saved
the last few sparks of heart in me
fanned them gently, lovingly
kept that flame alive and glowing.
Right til this day, it still is growing.
(Image adapted from Helly Maist/Pexels)