Aimlessly footslogging about an atramentous void,

Futility: just shy of an embrace, however, perseverance

Stokes the flames of determination with vigour,

But that is not enough to starve the insatiable

Appetite of diffidence which consumes one so ravishingly.

Imaginary blockage which had been teased,

Bludgeoned and finally seduced into becoming undone,

Though but a feeble flicker of luminance

Personified through tirelessly mining and sifting

Along seemingly infertile soil.

The tug of war engaged in the forms of

Indistinct whispers and numbing weight from

The Devil and Angel on quivering shoulders,

Toppling and failing to achieve equilibrium

On the Libra Scale that is catharsis.

Swaddling into the cocoon of introspection

Prolonged, but metamorphosis nonetheless.

Torched and extracted of a restricting skin,

Born anew, quieted mind and soul

Having shattered the opaque glass case

Of self hindrance.