Doubt

Doubt

By Brandon Palzkill

All the days are looking gray,

everything is pale,

saddened skies begin to cry,

winds begin to wail.

Here I stand, a weary man,

lost without a trail,

I never try, but rather, I

resign myself to fail.

Though I stand on barren lands,

through winds blowing in gales,

I see a sea ahead of me

and watch myself set sail.

At long last, I will voyage past,

those days, so cold and stale,

while every doubt will bottom out

and, finally, I’ll prevail.