I wrote this a few months ago. I’m not sure why I didn’t like it then, and to be honest, I still don’t. But sometimes that’s the point. With every rush of thought and emotion, there’s a quiet realization trailing behind. The dark days and the bright ones all blur eventually, dissolving into something quieter, harder to name. What remains is life. Just life. Not the dramatic arc, not the metaphor, just the raw moment you’re in, pulsing and indifferent.
Life can be a battlefield,
With struggles that we must wield.
But in every fight, we must stand,
And take control of our own hand.
It may be hard to see the light,
When darkness reigns both day and night.
But deep inside, there is a spark,
That can ignite and leave a mark.
The struggles we face can be tough,
But they make us strong, resilient, and enough.
For every scar we bear, every pain we feel,
Is a testament to our strength and will.
So rise above the struggles and the strife,
And take control of your own life.
With every step, with every breath,
You'll find the courage to face death.
For in the end, what matters most,
Is how we rise from the struggle's host.
To find the light, to reach the shore,
And leave behind what came before.
So take that step, take that leap,
And never let your heart weep.
For you have the power to overcome,
And create a life that's truly some.
Believe in yourself, and trust the path,
For what's meant to be, will always last.
With every struggle, with every fight,
You'll come out stronger and shine more bright
Read this on Substack where it first appeared — if you’re into that sort of thing.
