iffageek falls

Bleak despair -- circling, circling above my head --
waiting for me to realize that the
struggle is no longer worthwhile, that it is
easier just to give in to the
lethargy, to allow black-plumaged
melancholy to sink its hooked beak deep into my
soul, ripping and tearing
cruelly at something that once was
Alive, and human, and childishly hopeful.
But Still I Go On.
Yea, though I stagger through the
shadow of the Vulture of Doom, still
I go on -- hands and knees now bruised, now
bleeding from being scraped against and
sliced across the shale of my
discontent; still I go on -- there, but for the
folly of Pride, go I, refusing yet to
soar and swoop in the belly of my own
misery.

10/1999