I am out of breath and words.
The hill ahead we must climb
seems much too high
and tightens the core
in bands of steel
that limit flexible movement.
How can we climb under such duress?
Any future hope must be a mere guess
that we can find a way
through the dark and fretful days ahead.
Fatalism blocks the intake of air.
Fear locks an exhale all too aware
of obstacles placed along the path.
Few sherpas remain to assist,
compromised by willingness to desist
the smug faces of so many now in charge.
Human compassion is suppressed.
Freedom is kept at-large.
The goal remains the same.
The path is now littered in shame.
I am out of breath and words.
annarino writes 