Hoping for an End


The battle that rages inside my head
Is now at a standstill, I guess.
The soldiers are resting their weary bones,
Tending to their wounds.
Their fights now come in spits and spurts;
Sometimes zealous and feisty;
Other times, sluggish and slow.
Maybe they are losing their love for the war.
Maybe they are finally going to let things slide
And not make too much of a fuss
About the goings-on of the world
They have claimed as their fortress –
Which is my mind.
Is this too much for me to hope?

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