Reason ‘99

New to this territory,
Fumbling by with no aim
Misting visual haze
All remains the same;

Content with mediocrity
Satisfied to be the last
Plodding round in circles,
Sailing at half mast.

The unexpected shatters,
The world crashes at one’s feet
Pointing bloody fingers
The dark shadows rush to greet.

Discovering a whole new goal
See the change of rules
Clawing through the brambles
In a land of fools.

Achieving the impossible,
Nought so hard to attain
Savouring sweet victory –
And disaster strikes again

Throwing all off-balance
The pieces segregate
Double white-hot knives
The pain does not relate.

Struggling for a grip
A vow to do the same
Dedicate it to memory,
Winning in this game.

And all the while, slipping
Fearful thoughts remain –
After braving this field of obstacles,
Will I still be sane?

15 June 2000