They are broken, shaking, bitter and lost—

I know it well.

I have been standing in the dark

Shadowy corner of my cave,

Shivering in the mildewed enclosure.

I have scraped at these rocks

And felt their roughness sharply shiver

Through my nerves.

I have seen the light,

and turned my head.

I have chosen to remain here,

Wrapped in my cowardly mane.


At the hairline fracture of willpower,

I have searched within for strength

And grasped the smallest thread,

Followed it through an obscure maze,

And been lead to the heart—

It was mine own.

It beat and pulsed with the ruddy vibrancy

of life, and did not seem inclined to quit.

I gave it due thanks

And let operations carry on,

Leaving with that springy step of


I say onto you,

Fellow hearts beating,

Climb out of your caves

And run your course.

The rest is silence.

Poetry Slam: 


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