Counting the days
Left remaining ingrained in
This muddy, rat-hole, bug-infested,
Duress-filled uneasiness nest
Just to test my depressive
Resolve at its limits
Conflicted with finding the faith
It inhibits
And given two years to make sense
Of surrender
Expendable humans
I serve, a defender
Of peace there in me
Still it yearns to be free
But condemns itself to
Costs of living for free
Finding harmony in
What is simply easy
Understood to me as
One does melancholy