It is too easy..
To become complacent
and to seek escape.
To give up when the going
gets too tough..
and to allow yourself
the luxury to break.

To find solace
in your hopes for
the defibrillating
shock
of just one win..
Alas, where is
my long awaited
triumph?
The parade is stalled..
The Arc of my
accomplishment
is nowhere
to be seen.

The Arc that meant
to buoy me
through this great flood.
Alas I’m stuck
in space of liminal not-yeses
and yes-nots.

Instead of crying over
The Great Harvest
that just never seems
to come..
Perhaps I must behave
as though already
I have won.
Continue sharpening
my trusty scythe
upon the whetstone
of meaning.
And in my heart of hearts
believe..
that this is not The End.

For, I am
The Grimmest Reaper
of my new beginning.