Swamped (Poetry)

I cannot lift my feet — they’re stuck
in disillusion’s mud
I can’t go forward, can’t go back
and struggling’s no good

Odd poems fur my stubborn tongue
a fog invades my brain
I try a rhyme but it’s no use
I scratch it out again

I founder in a mental swamp
there’s slime upon my shoes
it stinks of desperation and
a grim persistent ooze

I cannot see a verse ahead
and rather less behind
I search among old stagnant thoughts
but nothing springs to mind

There’s no way forward — no way through
despair comes rolling in
slim hope’s horizon blotted out
by too much dithering

My limbs are numb, my heart is ice
the black dog nips my heels
there are no words that can express
the angst a body feels ...

I cobble up a quick-fix prayer
in haste to guide me through
this shifting ground that sucks me down
and trust what faith can do