At War

A chink in the armor.

A leak in the helm.

A part of me left open for you to crash into.

Why this feeble footing so often falls below me I do not know

My aim seems straight but falters in the bow.

And I feel covered in duct tape.

Taping anger

Taping passion

Taping love from seeping through

Enough to burst.

So here is my vision. Tape that too.

I will stumble forward into this misdirection.

But feel alive

Fighting life and death inside

Fighting right and wrong—decide!

And the pain and the hope crash like rapiers against one another.

 

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