Weight Of The World Poem by Boston Kelley

The weight of the earth cripples my shoulders
and I, like an insect, am crushed beneath the
weight.
A heavy stone I must carry as my legs quiver
in weariness.
This frail body is only human, and does not
know eternal strength.
A finite mind cannot handle the greatest mental
challenges of this limitless realm.
Look upon this weary soul and have pity, for
it has seen its extents.
It knows how far it can go and what tests it will
succeed; its limits it seeks to transcend only to
greet failure.
Exhaustion afflicts him as he struggles to muster
his strength; his senses grow dim each passing
minute.
Who else knows such struggles? Who has passed
through the fire, unscathed?
Those flames touch the skin and sear the body;
leaving one scorched and charred.
I walk through those fires and feel the sting; the heat
inflicts unbearable agony, yet I press on.
Press on I must, for I can only move forward. If I run back,
what will I have accomplished?
The stones may cripple my back and the flames may
scorch the skin, but, through it all, I am a conqueror.