Our Own Worst Enemy
I step out to face the night,
shielded like a medieval knight;
and count my victories boldly won,
need not count far for that is one;
drag my fingers roughly through my hair,
and stumble on the bones of some lost hare;
never to remember peace,
but lose myself a bit a piece;
life never claims to treat us fair,
but rather charges such steep fare;
and seeks your very soul to steal,
so guard thyself with sharpened steel;
and fall not into graves dark hole,
but guard well to remain whole;
cry your prayers long and aloud,
never mind if not allowed;
and strive to reach the distant peak,
for a clue a vision just a peek;
of where we must next set sail,
to keep our liberty from sale;
and suffer not freedom to die,
or our flag in false colors dye;
and hear our hymns in error chord,
allow our necks be noosed in cord;
our lives are split at the seam,
an end to our dream it seem;
sadly faltered off the course,
distrust and greed just too coarse;
having abandoned our true role,
further from the promise we roll;
upon the tides of fouler weather,
and question if our choices whether;
made in a selfish moment idle,
created of ourselves our idol;
and thus we locked within this cell,
our own misused spirit to sell.
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