Poem -
A Short Battle
She fights an unseen foe; battling till beads of sweat turn to blood on her brow. Tears running down each cheek in exhaustion. When she at last falls; nothing left to muster from the pits of her soul. It's before a still pond. She at last sees her foe. Equally battered, exhausted, and worn. For she fought so completely against herself.
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Comments
Raven…I really enjoyed this write. The foe may be unseen but it is surely known. And it is a battle, in theory, that can't be won. A battle fought on a barren desolation of internal struggle. Yes, it is very exhaustive but the need to continue to try to force a breach is relentless.
Well done!
val
Thank you Val. I am thoroughly glad you enjoyed it! :)
~ Raven H.