The brambles scrape
With nettles stinging repeatedly
Branches bend and bash
Mud slips beneath the feet
With knees hitting the floor
Roots tripping and not forgiving
Rain falls with no pause for thought
Gates locked, bolted and blocked
Stumbling over stiles
Continuing for miles
Soaking and nearly broken
We stand back up
And carry on
With our journey
No nettle entwined with brambles
With a branch to bash us
To the muddy ground
Will stop out hearts from fighting on
With roots to cling to
And stiles to help us on our way
The rain can replenish the body
To help unblock those lock bolted gates
The eyes open wide
With our hearts belief and desire
For love, For life
Or the view at the end
We always stand back up
And fight for another day.