I too am destined for a fight.
For war and peace and latent might.
Who will be my enemy,
That I’ll resist to become free?
Who will earn my pent-up scorn,
To which my efforting’s forlorn?
Who will live free in my head,
And keep me waking in my bed?
Whose destruction will define,
This thing that will become of my?
It seems that I have a choice,
To choose which foe be given voice,
In the tale that will become,
My life when it’s said and done.
Whether I win, or if I lose.
So, what then will I choose?
Will I fight my near and dear?
Or beasts on some distant frontier?
Will I fight another man?
Or his ideas and greater than?
Will I war with myself?
Or how the wars afflict my health?
What would I seek to destroy?
If all that is could be deployed?
How fiercely would I take to ground,
Compelled by who I am deep down?
And when it’s through, will I still be?
Or things this foe has made of me?
Since this foe will define me,
I’ll choose my foe quite carefully.
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