There is a light at the end of the tunnel;
We are told this our whole lives.
Yet, right now, as I run, I can feel myself starting to stumble.
These walls are narrow, and the exposed brick pricks my skin like knives.
I am sprinting towards the ever-glowing light
But the farther I run, the farther that light seems.
I have to remind myself that all this is worth the endless fight.
I feel it slipping from my gaze, that ever-fading gleam
I can feel my legs slowing, I beg them to keep pumping.
Every passing hour is agony as time slowly drips between fingertips
Each inkling of dread shows an easier way out, my heart constantly feels like jumping.
My will to keep moving, keep striving, keep trying slips and loses its grip.
My mind is weakened, it struggles and resists,
Yet, my soul persists.