Still, I Stand

In the midst of the grand and the damned, I stand,

Too distant to reach the stars,

Too grounded to fear the fall,

Just drifting to somewhere quiet, maybe.

No masterpiece is born in my hands,

No voice that calls me past my days.

I played my brief yet sincere part,

Then vanished into the rising dark.

The stars shine brilliantly, yet I can’t see them,

Their light seems too far to reach,

So in the dark, I stay where I stand,

And I wonder—is this enough?

As I stand between the triumphant few,

And those who lack the nerve to even begin with,

I hear a rhythm resonating deep within,

A steady, resolute heart.

Yet here I stand—I try, and I try,

Although triumph stays beyond my grasp.

I write, I fail, I question why,

I repeat, I fail, I question again,

Yet still, I stand, and still, I stand.

I walk on this quiet path,

Wandering slowly, retracing each step before,

I’ve loved this path, The path of my own—

Which was not in vain, perhaps.