In the cloudy corridors of my mind
a clear thought prevails.
It showers me with shiney dark nightmares
forcing me to look forward to backing down.
One dark beacon signaling the end
of my passive struggle.
I bow my head in unwilling submission
ungratefully accepting the conclusion.
I will live each day dying a bit
although I don't believe I exist.
But they say we are born to die, so
I will peacefully fight each day.
cc/amawitch2006
