Rhyme and rhyme to heart's content
It will never be a cure for pain up and pent.

It will produce a sense of worth,
A flickering belief of a place on this earth.

Some say with a spark comes the chance of fire.
But these are sparks in a vacuum,
Sparks for the sake of a brief, orange warmth.
I hold too small of a hope of being inspired.

Acknowledge this and maintain control,
Learn to understand your toiling
Even as down the hill your rock rolls,
From the work, your brow boiling.

Keep moving one grain at a time.
Hands shaking from focus,
Each speck placed perfectly in line.

Nothing like seeing the sea level rise,
Scooping out the water,
Driven to one more time see those eyes.
But in the back of the mind,
There festers that one, unrelenting thought.
The real possibility that the sight of land is forever behind.

But what to do but continue in travail!
A thought that surely causes sighs!
That causes many men to cry!
And yet it always takes priority over immediate demise!