Two Hands

The rot has well and truly set in
Yet I find myself energised
Filled with a desire for strength
To fight a good fight
To have something to die for
To have a goal to champion

Somehow I can't shake the feeling
All that I am is a sense of desperation
Trying madly not to lay waste
To hands of a faulty clock

There has to be better
Engagement with a worthy challenge
Pushing myself to find new limits
Reason to break a sweat
Reason to mend a broken back
Reason to rebuild slack muscles

When I seek peace at night
Dread grips the fabric of my being
The inescapable fear
That I can't destroy that infernal clock

I'm still letting time win
In many ways I always will