A Racing Mind

A poem about struggling with anxiety

It’s as if I’m being chased
but only shadows fall;
still I persist with pervasive fear
will not be defeated after all.

Rarely an easy stroll,
most often a downward slope
with jolting turns, haphazard bumps;
a catastrophe without hope.

One’s mind can’t simply take
to the recklessness of haste,
or the ruinous discomfort
that life has become a waste.

What ought to transpire
for the pursuit to finally cease?
A respite of the angst and gloom,
and thoughts to be at peace.

The hope that time will surface
when I can hide away,
and hear the footsteps passing
in the silence I will pray.