In the turning fortunes of moments and times,
There lies within ineluctable drawbacks and crimes;
The wear and tear of a journey's Tyre,
The affinity for hated tire and mire.
Send to live amidst moments, interwoven with your times,
Are masked peace piercing arrows- what you think at best your rhymes;
Erratic and turning at last,
The enemy's spear, firm and fast.
Foe far beyond the gate is seen,
And defender holds his bow set and keen;
But the enemy unknown with who we eat and sleep,
Strikes and hard at night, at day pretends to weep.
He is the cloth you wear
Or he within your cloth you rear;
He bites the softest of flesh,
To give pain greater and fresh.
For long or forever the spite remains unknown,
As ever you try to dig, a doubt is ever born;
To give the drawback once more a chance,
To strike and hurt the more, and profile enhance.