Battle

Pick axes and cleavers.
Barreled guns and torturous constraints.
Out to battle
for sovereign safety.
Behind an enemy line
to defend these escapes from lips
and thoughts
that time life
by the ungrateful death
of a tragedy.
I have been taken
as a prisoner of war.

They said I was part of a
meaningless battle.
That the peace
that should follow
is only drawn out of fate.
One from the other side
since cowards who combat
truth barely exist.
It was nothing short of treachery.
The way they separated my pride...
the heralded advance in my change of policy.
It's all over once I touch his face.
Have you missed me since I've left for war?

I escaped for a moment.
The sleep deprivation
had terrorized every second
after home again.
Post traumatic loving disorder....
I returned to shine my boots.
Confessed the disgrace.
Hang my medals on the wall.
Add up loses
and admit I couldn't withstand the fight.
So much for my tenderly apparent warfare.

A contention is simple apprehension.
Striking down the series
of treaties I wrote for justice.
Ceasefire.
You know you've won.
All is fair in love and war.