Criticize me
For this self-indulgent introspective…
It's all there is these days
When my pen's poison runs dry and…
Progress requires my hands and mind to move
Body aches
Mind numbs
Mood is firmly soured
This firm belief remains
In this case
Quitting is for the weak
Previous forecasts are appearing
Much more overcast than anticipated
But we forge on
Twigs and mosses crunching at our feet
This mission is colder and
The terrain much more difficult
Than we'd prefer
But I refuse to turn back
If I don't meet you
At the other side
I don't meet you
At the other side
The bags under my eyes
Have begun to twitch
Under the strain
That we've endured these past weeks
While the sun chose to hide
Behind its hollow grey sheath
Body aches, mind numbs, mood firmly soured
This firm belief remains
In this case
Quitting is for the weak
You all can walk away
But I won't fail this time
If I don't meet you at the other side
I don't meet you at the other side
Progress requires my hands and mind to move