| After the battle, when both parties are gone, When the curtain closes and there are no songs to be sung. The roads have all reached their endings, no seeds are left to be seen, My ship is slowly sinking, I lay back I breathe and I float. I sleep, I wake, I stare, I gaze. I’m water, I’m air, on cloud nine for days. No worry, no care, no strain, no needs. Unhurried, laid bare, of emotions I’m freed. No more struggle, it’s over I’m done. With my surrender, the war has been won. Released restraints and unburned loads, Diminished remains of unconquered goals. The field has been cleared, the deck scrubbed clean. What’s left to revere? The concept of me. |