What a soft and sour sweet
That disappointment is,
It hangs there
– in the middle of your chest –
And there it will stay.
It is the culmination of
All our delusions.
Our tainted vision
As the lens that is our ego is shattered
And all that is left is the acrid, pungent bitterness.
The flavour of being wrong,
You are undermined,
There is no resistance now.
Who are you to judge yourself
When you know your mirror is clouded?
Where has your confidence gone now?
But it is not a time to hesitate
With your full weight resting on the top rope.
This is the top of the hill and your rock is yet to fall.
The exact point at which you need to rub your eyes again:
You are still standing,
You can still fight.
You can still breathe life
Into your actions.
What has happened is the past
Now you are in the moment of the now,
All that is, is the heartbeat of the clock.
Fight, fight, breathe, tick, beat, breathe, fight.
Each new moment is a new opportunity to win,
And win we must,
As no taste
Will never be the end of me,