Struggle
I’ve seen the world as cradled in the night;
The forms and colors shapeless as in death.
It swallows all and leaves me not a breath
Of hope that I shall ever find my sight.
Then day is come and bathes the Earth in light,
And hangs the hue of life as like a wreath.
Like mighty hands that draw the sword from sheath;
The light of day shall save the world from night.
The fight can’t go forever on and on.
What awesome force decides their final plight;
That uses each as if it were a pawn?
My only fear after the final fight:
Shall we see at the end the day at dawn,
Or will it be the dawning of the night?
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