In life's cruel battlefield, we're bound to roam,
But the foe we face is a place we call home.
No, our enemy isn't one that we can see,
It's the very battlefield that steals our glee.
A treacherous terrain where sorrows never cease,
Obstacles, trials, and pains won't find release.
The battlefield itself, a relentless foe,
As we navigate its twists, our spirits grow low.
The battlefield of life, a constant, crushing test,
In its shadows, we find no solace, no rest.
To conquer not the world, but our own despair,
With heavy hearts, we grapple with the wear and tear.
Our enemy, the very ground beneath our feet,
Leaves us broken, tired, in our sad defeat.
In this war of life, where we lose more than we gain,
It's the self within, our true foes' heavy chain.
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Anthologies
PoetryLife is like a book. There are good chapters, and there are bad chapters. But when you get to a bad chapter, you don't stop reading the book, right?! If you do... then you will never get to know what happens next! Here, I will tell you guys what ha...
