What happens next?
I ask myself as time rushes,
Eager to meet a day I dread.
How shall I prepare for this day?
Should I come unforgiving
With guns at the ready,
Ready to face my doom?
Or should I hold a cloud above my head
And hope the lighting strikes me too soon?
I've been draphted into a war.
One I know that I am going to lose.
All I've done to prepare
Is lock myself in a cage.
Panicked and weeping
Praying this would all go away.
Now I face the fact that this day will come anyway.
And the battle will only last for a day.
But the war will rage forever.
What is this beauty?