My truimphant failure

I look at my failure in the eye,

Try to smile and suppress a sigh,

It jeers at me with a laughing cry,

“Your poor dreams, my  dear,

were born so tender, but aimed so high!”

 

I turn my back to it and try to walk,

But everything around looks so dreary and dark;

I stumble over a rock and hurt my heart,

My failure laughs louder at my staggering start.

 

I gather myself and say a silent prayer,

In answer the clouds above disperse

and the light dispels my fear.

My failure shrivels and struggles at this sight,

Knowing it cannot stand a chance before this Might.
 

On golden wings of hope comes a divine succour,

Encircles me and whispers in my ear,

“Try again; I am with you, my dear,

There’s still some life… your dreams are still here!”