Novel & Cerita Struggle Poems

The mirror reflected back a broken image, a shattered facade that masked the profound ache of a wounded soul. As I surrendered to the waves of despair, I yearned for relief—for a respite from the relentless ache that gnawed at my insides. In the silence of that solitary moment, I grappled with the daunting realization that perhaps the greatest battle I faced was not against external forces, but against the shadows of doubt and insecurity that threatened to consume me from within.

"I agree. I find solace in poetry for similar reasons. It helps me articulate my thoughts and feelings in a way that doesn't always come naturally in conversation." Marvis gestured towards one of her paintings. "This one represents the struggle for acceptance and the journey towards finding one's place in the world. It's a reflection of my own experiences, a tale of resilience and hope." Jace studied the painting intently. "It's incredibly powerful. The vibrant colors seem to battle against the darkness, creating a sense of hope amidst the struggle. It's as if each stroke tells a story."

They traversed forests that whispered secrets and hid unseen threats, and deserts that scorched the very air they breathed, their sands a shifting maze of deceit. Storms raged and howled, challenging their resolve, daring them to falter. Droughts sapped their strength, taunting them with the promise of defeat. They battled the elements with a ferocity that matched nature's own, fought the odds with a determination that defied logic, pushed their bodies to the very limits of human endurance, and then pushed some more.

I pleaded, desperation pushing me forward, trying to break through the barrier they presented but it was to no avail. "Please don't force our hand, Miss Summer. Turn back, please!" one of them begged, but my decision was unshaken. With a surge of determination, I pounced forward, attempting to slip between them. However, their grip tightened around me, their will unwavering, and I found myself caught in their unbreakable hold. "Let me go now!" My voice held an edge of misery as I wrestled with them, though their strength surpassed mine. Mid-struggle, they abruptly dropped me to the ground, their heads bowed as if following a command.

I can’t stand it, can’t stand the fire, the heat, the blaze that takes everything away. I will not give in. I fight with all that I am, the instinct to release everything pitted against the part of me that needs control, needs to stay this side of human. The desperate struggle shreds my senses, rips them wide open. I lose my breath again, each exhale the sound of my weakness. The sound of what I cannot have. Control. It splinters. I shudder with the enormity of the change, the enormity of my failure. I can’t resist it, can’t stop it. My attempts are futile, each more frantic than the last.

Her struggling was faint but there. The grass was wet. Soft. I buried my fingers in it. Felt it curl around my fingers. This was life. Unfair. Difficult. A struggle of who was the strongest. This was the nature of people. To claw and fight until their last breath because they knew nothing else.

The days proceeded moody and leaves were falling, Yet you are still there to keep me aspiring, Those sleepless nights that you showed my worth, I thought you were truly down to earth, The days come cold, Same as your heart's constantly changing, You eventually manifested your true colours, Which it had given me tremendous dolours, With just a simple misunderstanding, We end up ravaging, To perceive that everything was in contentment, Though deep inside my soul there is a massive disenchantment. Every minute, Every day, Every week, Every month, You're still in my heart. Too much loneliness, Too much sickness, Too much suffering, Too much pain, I will still hold on for gain. The problems come,

“The harder you struggle, the tighter the bite.’’ I had not realized what he was talking about until I looked at my wrist and realized the pain. his hand grip my left ankle with one movement. and the chains that are not even taking long. with just a slap on my ankle it had encircled itself around my leg and pulled me to a straight position. He repeated the same process with my left leg. I tried. I tried to fight him. to curse at him. to even beg him. “As for this one, every time you try to struggle, this chain in the middle only extends wider. at the end of it all if you try to fight it, your legs would be spread for my eyes.’’

I'm struggling through darkness. Far from all light, and love, and life. Death has swallowed me whole. Gasping for breath, I struggle against the black embrace of the ocean, bindings of frozen ebony velvet that hold and smother me, pulling me down, down, down. Far below, the bus falls through the shadows; far above, a maelstrom of shattered glass dances through the water. My body is tired. Thrashing wildly against the tide, I gasp for breath, and take in a lungful of burning saltwater.

"When I was a little more than a child, my grandfather died. My mother sang a beautiful song to me to help me feel better. She told me that her mother used to sing it to her in sad times. We all wonder why this terrible thing happened, and why it happened to us. There are no good reasons. How do you explain, intolerance, envy, hatred, and fear? Just know that there is either a plan for us all, or everything in life is totally random. Your choice, but either way, you have to learn to accept what we cannot explain. I hope that Gwen will help me with one final song, the song by John Lennon and Paul McCartney that my mother used to sing to me." Steve began playing a familiar tune on the piano an