The Battle

There is a force,
I constantly battle against,
Weapons sundry,
I keep bringing up,
And humbled by defeat,
As each one goes down,
I go on, still undeterred.

Faith took its chance,
Survived a while,
Before being fazed out.
Love, in its ever smug role,
Took to the battle,
And bowed away soon enough.
Habit pitched in,
With immense hope,
The lesser said about it, the better.
And there followed
Hope,
Relationship,
Dreams,
All dripping in defeat,
Retreating..

What was the battle anyway..
What was the victory mark..
Survival.
Sustenance.
Consistency.
Eternity.
Who can beat them in their target then..
The target setter,
The target itself..
Time.

‘with time’,
It trounced something else too.
My opening lines,
As they metamorphosed ..

There is a force,
I constantly battle alongside,
Against the vagaries typically human,
As each goes down,
I go on, rejuvenated..