Well, I’ve lived another day in the Self-Battle.
Today was the roughest out of all because
In the house of my Father was where I thought
It was wise to start losing the fight.
But no, this war will surpass the Hundred Years!
I’d seen a glimpse of firefight on the field.
But if I am to remain there,
My only hope is to think of mine close to me.
This is why I do not engage in war.
Eventually, you will believe the noose was your birth.
But I had it wrong all along.
If I lose the Great Self Battle,
It shall ripple across the oceans
Like those in the Middle of the World.
My company of conflict
Will be afflicted by my cause
And there will be no point of return.
As I write my romanticized letter of gruesome bloodshed,
Just know I’ve hidden an empty letter and envelope
To soon fill needs of despair, anguish, and agony.
For the day I stop looking forward to the sun
During the burning rays of God,
Is the day you will find:
The Gun triggered,
The Rope tied,
The Guillotine released,
And the emptiness to be filled
With the sadness of my words,
Loneliness,
And nonexistent love of others.