Troy

How many battles do I need to face

To win this war

Dark clouds looming overhead

I have fought my way here

Faced opposition from myself, and others

To this day

I have earned this breath that I take

Darkness closes in

I lay down

Not from defeat, but weary days

I don’t not have the fight in me

No more, I beg

To look and be prepared

For another swing to my chest

The shield I wear is battered and dented

My armour ill fitting

The shattered fragments of the heart that beats within

Bleeding hands to piece it together

No longer is it whole

The tiny shards, vanished

The heart smaller once more

With holes and spaces cut from false enemies

Like Troy

I accepted

Fool.

The war is over.

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