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!”