Only the dead

Only the dead

Are unencumbered

By the fear of failure

Their future is secure.

The release from struggle

Is a weight lifted

Perhaps they can find

A better frame of mind

More attuned and self-aware.

When the need arises

They will be goodness

To salt the earth

Satisfy a demand for reciprocity

So often absent in life

As the hurly-burly

Is a force too powerful

For many

To subdue.

Swept along on a tide

Of expectation

Driven to the brink

Of destruction

As desperation takes its toll

The contempt of others

A constant reminder

Of one's worth

When the worst of it lies

In the growth

Of self-loathing

The tacit acceptance

A rising tide,

As footholds disappear

Weariness becomes a slide

Into the deep

A small step

A steep fall

A gentle kiss

A long goodbye.