The morning, crisp and broken by the curfew
Of rising larks and pigeons in the choir,
Its breaching sun is bursting through the grass dew
And thinning out the misty dawn's perspire.
Many rest upon their linen sheets around
And you, the only currently arise,
Solo is your ally when breaking the ground;
Undistracted, undisturbed - your alibis.

Your muscles twitch uncertain of their purpose,
Or whether purpose serves them yet to start,
The head is now suggesting that you're worthless
And battles with the resolve of your heart.
A road that much less traveled must be conquered,
But necessary not if by those who
Strike with no emotion or emotions blurred;
Push without belief that they are able to.

Your body aches from trying hard to break it,
Your mind, a pulp that no more forms a thought,
The blisters, bruises hurt too much to fake it;
The tattered fibres frayed, no longer taut.
But life is short and time the greatest healer
Will let your body, mind and soul repair,
This paranoia your only defeater,
This deprecation your only despair.

You dread the distance that you have not traveled
And panic that it's not for you to make -
Convince yourself they'll find you here, unraveled,
Persuade yourself that this is a mistake.
The road is long, it winds around your torment,
Your trepidation herein trips your feet
For by your fears alone will you be misspent,
And hope will no more greet you in the street.

So down your doubts and leave them in the gutter,
And tighten up the laces on your shoes,
Let not defeating thoughts be yours to utter,
It's by your hand alone that you can lose.
Keep going until there's no more to go through,
And further, faster, than you've ever done,
Above the limitations that can't catch you
Beyond the endless footfalls of your run.

Copyright © 2014 by Simon Austin