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The task before me lay insurmountable,
its depths beyond sounding.
The vastness of it stretched to infinity,
and it slithered,
slipping, eel-like, out of my grasp
should my mind try to wrap
its invisible fingers round it.
Sullenly I sat,
my palms cradling my face,
the dreaded desk far from me,
and its machine,
the instrument of my suffering,
glittering, obsidian-like,
on its surface.
I sighed,
letting the contraption blink to blankness,
the sudden extinguishing of light
such an indictment,
a symbol of my failure,
my abject defeat.
But, were I to start?
Were I to sit boldly before it,
back erect,
a brave soldier
vanquishing my foe,
its defenses falling,
capitulating to my keystrokes,
then would the task be so vast?
Would its depths be beyond measure,
its waters so murky,
or would it clear,
the sun streaming through it,
proudly portraying its beauty?
Should I but begin,
my task might not elude my grasp,
but, caught, yield to my gentle ministrations,
pliable,
waiting to be worked,
it might delight in the attention it received,
its scope not receding,
but growing,
eager to show me the wonders it holds.
A stir rose in my bosom,
my once feeble heart pounding a rhythmic beat,
my listless hands strengthening,
eager for their exercise…
..then I saw the remote,
its silvery surface seducing me.
I hoisted it,
the effort great for my enfeebled frame,
lassitude sweeping over me,
the wages of a defeated soul.
I pressed the all-too familiar button,
and a very different screen blinked to life,
my own life draining away
as I numbed myself insensate
Ah, God loves me anyway,
I consoled myself.
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