Writhe--- Part I

Shove me down,
push me into the mud
again.
Over and over you taunt me.
You extend hope,
and I take it each
time,
no questions asked.
and each time...
I am pushed away.
Teased with an answer...
taunted with the promise of
an escape.
But you just take it away...
I have fought this battle
for far too long,
raising my fists
at this huge adversary
and pouring all of my energy to
taking it down.
into ripping it's black
heart from it's
writhing chest
to watch it's blood
spit from the wound
and seep into the earth,
finally leaving me...
I want to banish this beast,
to push it out.
But, occasionally it bests me
pushing me past what I can bear,
and I must hide the agony,
slipping into a
facade,
shutting away tears of
weakness, rage, and pain.
Will there be an end to this?
a day when I triumph
over the bitter
sting
of my unknown
agony?
Only time
will tell.