Existential Spite

Quiet trepidation of aged earth
stutters man’s momentum.
Faltering and wallowing, a solidified sludge covers his eyes.
He attempts to take hold
of roots beside him,
but they crumple in his palms.
The mud thickens.
His feet spatters until hefty with soil.
Man attempts to progress forward
whilst bound.
In the midst of his miring,
he chuckles,
“Another day.”