Frayed

Like a piece of fabric well-worn,
My soul seems frayed, threadbare.
Darned one time too many, patched up and sown, the seams distressed.
Its barely held together with a few steadfast threads,
Adamant at making it to the very end.
There was once a time, it was new and intact,
It hadn't seen winter or the harsh winds of the west, it was shiny, safe, secure, ready to save the day.
But now its lost, weary and weak, like a setting sun...
Ready to give up, knowing deep down that it couldn't,
For tomorrow is another day,
Another battle to be fought,
Not won nor lost...
Like a piece of fabric well-worn,
My soul seems frayed, threadbare.