pressure packaged inside a crystal hour glass
asserting itself upon my conscious and unconscious walls
my subconscious steals a glance in the direction of the time keeper
and cringes with each grain of sand that falls, falls, falls...
i press on diligently, applying my mettle
but my psyche deliberately meddles
forcing each grain of sand upon me like metal
my goal now seems unattainable
but my soul focuses on the medal
stress to achieve
is stretched by minions of deceit
i cant compete, im partially incomplete
for within im without, saplings begin to sprout
from a million seeds of doubt
i want to do this, i must do this
i cant do this, to struggle is useless
i falter, i stumble
finished before i begin
even the mighty oak bends to the will of the wind
im just a tool of the beast and success is a sin
should i give up before i give in
should i stand and fight
like the sun against the night
the knight versus the ogre
or just remain mediocre
i want this, i need this
i breath this, i bleed this
so if success is a sin
open up the gates of hell...
and let me in!
Silver trophy winner
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