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Abstract

a></figcaption></figure><p id="07fd">Clarity comes And the walls reveal themselves – tall, strong and immovable. In the haze and fog, Which is his daily walk, Their existence is blurred; They are forgotten Though he was there when they were built, and even added stones. Now in clarity, he looks to bring them down – stone by stone. And so he works relentlessly, wi

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th pick and hammer As his salty sweat stings his eyes and His muscles and mind fatigue. Yet his only yield from this Sisyphean task is Bloodied palms and frustration, While the stones remain, one upon the other. Then slowly and imperceptibly, (under cover of his exhausted heart and mind) The fog seeps back again And hides the stony barricade.</p></article></body>

Forgotten Walls

Photo by Shashank Hudkar on Unsplash

Clarity comes And the walls reveal themselves – tall, strong and immovable. In the haze and fog, Which is his daily walk, Their existence is blurred; They are forgotten Though he was there when they were built, and even added stones. Now in clarity, he looks to bring them down – stone by stone. And so he works relentlessly, with pick and hammer As his salty sweat stings his eyes and His muscles and mind fatigue. Yet his only yield from this Sisyphean task is Bloodied palms and frustration, While the stones remain, one upon the other. Then slowly and imperceptibly, (under cover of his exhausted heart and mind) The fog seeps back again And hides the stony barricade.

Depression
Hopelessness
Sysiphus
Mental Health
Poetry
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