~ a poem about existence and its fight and its end.
Each moment we are fighting,
A battle for the locus,
A willing trial for a mindful spriting,
An entropic competition unto our focus,
A duel of fates,
with our heart in balance
Casting our tale through the gates
We yearn our heart’s beat with valiance
The beginning marks the fall of the four,
Always playing in the moment when:
Willpower falters and Fear encores,
Rage corrupts and Avarice amens,
Hope is lost
In this bout,
~ Life awaits Death ~
With Fate, lies all the clout
In the All, sans Self, Life becomes Death.
Unto your Self, and past the All,
Death joins Life in an endless and enervating dance
One cannot choose; One must choose.
We keep delaying the dictate.
Regarding our fate,
All that we know will be returned
And that which exists today, falls tomorrow.
There is no finale
For this Battle
No matter to the transient victors,
And the new challengers up for trying,
We all lose.
In the aeons hence,
What will be the lasting scene of our war?
More than smoke and dust and darkness,
What parts, if any, of our story may endure?
As you march upon the ramparts of your chosen regiment,
And charge into the fray dealing death undaunted
Dream of this species’ nightmarish denouement,
And let that vision direct your blade in the coming battles
Perhaps then, back into its sheath. ~