Volition

A crisp, pounding expression of determination, voiced at a time in his life when despair kept tapping him on the shoulder. His coping mechanism for depression has always seemed to be to give voice to the unconquerable, and this piece does that well. Notice his use of the contractive forms of "over" and "every", giving this poem a voice, a dialect, all its own.

Volition

my work is not yet done,
so I must labour on,
til silence o'ertakes me
and this life forsakes me.

ev'ry man sometimes fails,
ev'ry martyr feels nails,
but we fight through the gloaming
with the night overcoming.

my work is not yet done,
so I must labour on,
til silence o'ertakes me
and this life forsakes me.

God sometimes seems silent
in a world so violent,
yet we charge or crawl or call
to the winds and to the wall.

my work is not yet done,
so I must labour on,
til silence o'ertakes me
and this life forsakes me.

I am weary at times,
I reflect on my crimes,
taking motive when the night
settles in o'er the fight.

my work is not yet done,
so I must labour on,
til silence o'ertakes me
and this life forsakes me.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.