Is the confidence of a god warranted?
Is the skill of a man enough to break his mind?
His start is just like any other
Risk low and power rising,
No work or opponent too great
He doesn’t think or dream or wonder if this life will last
So sure that he lives in a utopia of success
But time erodes all, in the end
A tango with an unstoppable force,
Where he is less sturdy than he had once thought
Low after low hits and the new and wild rise to take his place
In an ever changing world
Does it mean anything to be immovable
How weary must he be, weight of the world upon his shoulders
How confident can we be that he holds it strong
Do we hear his raves, his shouts and screams
Do we know of what he speaks
Tides of words flow and wane
He stinks of anger, of desperation
Circled by a crowd of severed bonds
Alone in a room full of strangers
All once known, now gone
When you win the battle, a fight long fought
Can you say that you have bested him?
Would you call it a victory?
It’s a world that has made a mess of you both
A case of mutually assured devastation
A story with no end, a climax with no clear triumph
Not when both sides have lost
Caged in a place where you both were too headstrong
Too sure of himself, convinced he knew it all
Near certain that he was in an interval of success
But near is never enough
And the more he learned and tried to be,
The less room there was for him to be free
Post climax, he nurses his wounds
But the gods and men around him only seek to hurt him more
Like a starving lion, wild and lost
Uncertain of what makes a friend or enemy when neither will save him
How do you heal when you are not safe
Neither side sinless, both willing to rot
In hindsight, he was falling all along
Photo: Photosforyou on Pixabay.com
