a glooming peace

almost we cannot shift the weight
it bears upon us with great pain
as we await the healing rain
each of us wonders at our fate
the sense of shock will not abate
it's not a matter of loss or gain
but of how far we might restrain
the power that would break the slate
never have we required the load
that once was carried by the strong
to break the backs of those who wait
instead the weight has been a goad
to move although the road is long
and we may never reach the gate