Despite my lying prone beneath the weight
Of haste-invented reasons not to try
Still, the burning lights will not abate.
No fear within or out assails my eye
To cripple what is left of my ascent
Or stand between the voids, the goal, and I.
The waves may batter shores without relent
Just as the pilgrim's progress is detained
By all-encroaching darkness' descent.
But no-- unflinching fires still remain
Emblazoned on the paths beneath my feet.
They light the burning hope which keeps me sane;
These lights I follow till my hope's complete.
postscript
For day 23. A terza rima. From: "No halfheartedness or worldly fear must turn aside from following the light unflinchingly." --Tolkien