Down Does Not Mean Defeated

Hopelessness

Hope slowly secreted,

Finally depleted.

Oozing from my soul,

The hope that once fueled me like an everlasting coal.

.

Nothing feels the same.

I’m lost in their game.

It’s one without rules.

Yet I’m always losing.

Never allowed to do any of the choosing.

.

Retreated

Inside myself.

Wishing for an impenetrable bubble.

I freeze

And I stumble.

.

As lost within as I am lost without.

No answers are forthcoming.

Yet I still see them gunning.

Always coming, but I’m not running.

I hear their lies, attempts at shunning.

.

They’d like my dignity served up on a silver platter.

They’d prefer my brains to be blown

Away.

Gone with a splatter.

Opponent finally destroyed. Bullet drops with a clatter.

.

They think their victory is the only goal that matters.

Their fervent belief

That I’ve never mattered.

It’s their justification for leaving our lives in such tatters.

Now, I’ll see to it that they are no longer the cause of any self-inflicted splatters.

.

For I’ve only ever been defeated temporarily,

Then I rise again, even if I must do so solitarily.

Justice has long been denied now I’ll deliver it summarily.

They may’ve thought they’d won, but their celebrations will cease momentarily.

We shall win this war. We shall win it verily.

. . .

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This poem was originally published on Medium: