After all my troubles I like to think

that deep inside me is a core of faith,

a lovely shining thing, rock hard, upright,

gleaming from the polish of many a dark aching night.

But what I feel there instead is a shaft of pain,

a stabbing standing spear that pierces me again.

I refuse to avoid it as I continue to seek

beneath pain, sorrow, darkness, when I'm not too weak.