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.