Within the soul is the struggle fought,
Deeply buried from the eyes of others.
The climb into the light,
Or decent into darkness,
Both realities on the pilgrims journey.
The road difficult
Littered with failures,
Wandering at times into darkness
Threatening its cold touch,
Feeding thoughts of despair,
Deeper still in quiet infinite,
The sword of light
Dimly shinning yet seen
Pushes back the enclosing doom,
Cutting to the morrow its truth,
The light showing no mercy
Allowing healing to occur,
That from the ashes
New life once again sprouts
Renewing the soul.