Of all the battles that I have waged and won I keep no records. For those were to be fought and won And thus were done. But it is this little skirmish that started unnoticed Closer to the resting place of all desires That now threatens with a wily flutter And silently consumes me in a raging fire. It is not as it were before For there is no friend that fights with me Or a foe like the ones that I fought before. Would it be tragic then of me to lose For what she then would call her own I have been but a mere custodian since long And waited for her all this while To claim as her own.
Together, under a clear blue sky