Decay, fear, anxiety become constant companions, making life a living hell. The poet talks about gathering that last scrap of courage to take the plunge, to risk failure as the possibility of success and happiness cannot be overlooked.
The fragility of failure,
sunset over the ruined city
and life never the flowering garden
it could be.
All is captured by death,
after leaving heaven and
when returning - decay and fear and hope
of eternity in spite of the silence.
A wilderness of anxiety overtaking
the summit, suffocating the interior
with its acid juices, following the chain link
until the grave.
Waste and enormous hunger,
rejecting reality to keep sane.
This is no way to continue,
no life of rapid transitions or stepping out
of the mire onto solid land.
Here, the temperature is predictable,
the yawning pit of disaster is always expanding,
nearing and nearing.
So take this last bit of courage
stand on the edge and let yourself go,
know what it is to be truly radical,
risking the fall, committed to
the end result.