Criticize me
For this self-indulgent introspective…
It's all there is these days
When my pen's poison runs dry and…

Progress requires my hands and mind to move

Body aches
Mind numbs
Mood is firmly soured

This firm belief remains
In this case
Quitting is for the weak

Previous forecasts are appearing
Much more overcast than anticipated
But we forge on
Twigs and mosses crunching at our feet
This mission is colder and
The terrain much more difficult
Than we'd prefer
But I refuse to turn back
If I don't meet you
At the other side
I don't meet you
At the other side
The bags under my eyes
Have begun to twitch
Under the strain
That we've endured these past weeks
While the sun chose to hide
Behind its hollow grey sheath

Body aches, mind numbs, mood firmly soured
This firm belief remains
In this case
Quitting is for the weak

You all can walk away
But I won't fail this time

If I don't meet you at the other side
I don't meet you at the other side

Progress requires my hands and mind to move