To my former self I write
A farewell tonight,
The memories that mattered most
Are now some phantom ghost.
And I remember with delight
Of my strength and might,
The victories and fellow praise
And greatnesses of coming days.
It so happened someday
Maybe over a period and not one day,
The strength became a curse
And the sword cut it’s master adverse.
Bled to dispassion and indifference
Failure became a common occurrence,
The darkness knew no brevity
And each day felt like infinity.
The pain took ages to abate
As the mind yearned victory’s weight;
And then came the ‘spring’ of realisation,
There is more to life than victory’s materialisation.
Now, I no longer wield the sword
But walk plainly on battle’s ford,
The life seems an abundance of possibilities
Victories and strengths are no longer realities.