The warring battle of not good or evil.
Not right or wrong.
But at the moments notice what should be done.
Should I go out to struggle against the war of thought,
or meagerly accept that the battle has been lost;
Why not slide back into bed, a seemingly forever.
Because sometimes what is right is not always right.
And what is wrong is not always wrong.
Maybe defeat is the reality of what I need.
Would that not be so much easier.
Sorry to say, but that's what I'm leaning to.
Just cancel everything for the future, it's only war.
Request this slumber to peacefully accept that I am not meant to win.
This bed does not hold dreams.
The pillows do not rest my head.
"Comforter" oh please. It suffocates me.
These sheets were meant to bring the calm.
But they are my memories.
Reminders of why I can't leave,
and the very essence of why I should.