Death comes, knocking

with muffled raps

bone on cotton

on wood

drink deep the perils of action,

the trembling anxieties

of endeavour

drink deep the pain of trying,

doggedly carving a life

from immovable

circumstance

Death patiently waits, rasping

with sweetened breath

begging follow

but drink deep the dregs of failure,

the acrid remnants of ambition

once more, raise Hope aloft

in spite of suffocating

uncertainty

once more, strike out in search

of bedrock from which

to carve dreams

once more, drink deep

the wretched draught

of reflection

of defeat

though Death remains,

a shroud, scratching

at Will, offering

relief

once more,

drink deep.