Whilst in the Torment of the Storm

When the rain is cold and pelting When the windstorm shreds the trees Do you find your courage wanting? Is there weakness in the knees? Have you faced the dark intruder? Have you stared that challenge down? Have you summoned forth the fortitude, To keep humiliation gowned? Camouflaged the leaden spinelessness, That dreaded empty space, Where once there was a warrior Who wore courage on his face.

 

Felt the thrashing of the current As the waves come pounding in, Inexorably it lacerates And tears the fair white skin. The brutality of bedrock, The blackness of the night, And the fear that runs like mercury Through the torment and the fright. The uselessness of effort, The lassitude of limb, It’s the cramping ague of gutlessness That is consuming him.

 

Dissipating storm clouds The skies begin to clear And with it go emergencies And with it goes the fear. Residually it lingers As a gnawing hollow blend Of anxious blue inadequacies, Of unsubstantiated end To performance under duress, Compared to that which is the norm, It’s just a blinding lack of courage Whilst in the torment of the storm.     Marshalg Mangere Bridge 24 November 2008