Struggle Poems Novels & Stories

I could only pray from here on. The river seemed to churn and start a haunting tune. The sea, It raged, It raged, It raged... As it pummelled The lonely shore, As if to say; Dare to enter, Dare to enter, Dare to enter, And you’ll see dry land - No more … I started to hit the invisible barrier harder as I saw her struggle for air while trying to break free from the grasp of the water. The water started to enter her eyes and nose and mouth at the same time, choking her and dragging her under.

But struggles are futile, there's no end to this infinite darkness. I tried to close my eyes, conceiving this ambiance. Unfortunately, all I felt is... .. .. .. .. 'Nothing'

Vincent's poem thus; When I too long have looked upon your face, Wherein for me a brightness unobscured Save by the mists of brightness has its place, And terrible beauty not to be endured, I turn away reluctant from your light, And stand irresolute, a mind undone, A silly, dazzled thing deprived of sight From having looked too long upon the sun. Then is my daily life a narrow room In which a little while, uncertainly, Surrounded by impenetrable gloom, Among familiar things grown strange to me Making my way, I pause, and feel, and hark, Till I become accustomed to the dark. I could no longer fight this battle with myself and Jeffrey.

If someone brought me here expecting me to crumble, they underestimated the strength I possess, a strength forged by years of endurance and struggle, tempered by hardship and resilience. I keep going, placing one weary, bloodied foot in front of the other, my gaze locked forward on the horizon, searching for something, anything, that will guide me home again. Even in this terrible, empty place, I hold onto the small flicker of hope that burns defiantly within my heart, refusing to allow despair to win, refusing to accept defeat.

Frustration and pain coursed through me as I followed him, unwillingly and powerless, into the lion's den, utterly submissive to his dominance. My struggle to free myself from his monstrous grip was like that of a prisoner struggling against iron chains, making me furious and desperate for escape, After struggling to free myself from his grasp to no avail, I let my frustrations out, "Let me go!" My voice betraying the urgency that had overwhelmed me,

I fell to my knees, my head in my hands, and wept. The struggle was overwhelming. It looked to me as if I was battling against something far greater than I am, more like a duel between; a pawn and a queen.

My heart pounds in my chest, a symphony of fury and frustration echoing in my ears as I struggle against the suffocating webbing that ensnares me. Lycidas is engaged in his own battle, his attention consumed by the creature that looms before us. I can feel his presence beside me, a comforting anchor in the chaos that surrounds us, but he is unable to come to my aid as I thrash against the sticky tendrils that bind me.

My fists meet no resistance, my legs stumble against a ground that doesn’t exist. And still, I fight. Because if I stop, then I admit it—I’ve lost everything. But the darkness doesn’t tire. It waits, patient, like a beast circling prey. It doesn’t rush me. It doesn’t need to. It knows something I refuse to admit. That I can’t win. Not anymore, i’m too weak. The weight presses in, heavy and suffocating, wrapping around me like chains I can’t see. I can’t breathe right. My chest burns, my limbs ache, and every second I keep struggling feels like dragging a dead body through mud. My own body. My own failures.

She read the poem on the topmost page: Blurry eyes, in a haze, Cry silently near the window, Go without speaking for days, Written words are all that remain. What did I do wrong? You call me a disgrace. Sleep with pretty women, perfect bodies Yet you dare show me that face? I sit by my lonesome, Never a hair out of place, Temptation walks by, You get in the way. Dismay, disarray, I seek comfort, The warmth of a stranger's arms,

the way we fell to the bottom and got trampled all over again. The anger that I held back from the setbacks that were thrown our way, a continuous hurdle that never gave us a break, those hard and difficult times plow us deeper into the pit...they appeared one by one putting a thousand-pound weight on my chest. As if a forceful hand kept pushing us into the corner, submitting me to be hopeless. I felt the sorrow, the sadness, the false hope....the struggles between those encumbrances. It was all coming back to me.