The Daily Grind

Alone, we wonder through thick of night,
Stumbling through the under brush that binds our ankles.
The journey is too much for the body, emotions, and spirit.
A heavy groaning escapes the lips,
Falling into a lifeless heap of sorrow,
Eyes blinded by the stinging of sweat and tears and blood.
The darkness, all consuming, covers the glimmers of Faith of Hope that woke us early this morning.
Sleep falls like dew that covers the Forrest floor, restoring us just enough to face one more day, one more attempt to find home.

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